


Dirty Night Clowns

by theDelirium



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Ultra Sun & Ultra Moon | Pokemon Ultra Sun & Ultra Moon Versions
Genre: Age ranged Team Skull members, Alcohol, And doesn't apply to Guzma, Broken Bones, Coming down from Antidepressants, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Medication, Mental Illness, Mentions of team rocket, Moon is from Kanto, Moon's Father is deceased, Not Canon Compliant, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Previous tag applies only to Chp 8, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, Reader is Moon, Reader is the Protagonist, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 42,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27627925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theDelirium/pseuds/theDelirium
Summary: Moving to Alola to escape Viridian and the death of your father has ended up far more dangerous than you expected and going to beat ass in Po Town shouldn't have ended up like this. Trapped in a skewed deal with Guzma and stuck with more grunts than you can count, your stupid soft heart gets the better of you. But with your pokémon held hostage and your body and mind steadily declining, can you really expect to make it out of this in one piece?
Relationships: Guzma (Pokemon)/Reader, Guzma/Moon (Pokemon)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 45





	1. Turn the Lights Off

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost of mine from years ago under a different name. But I realized I was only missing a few chapters and I was like well surely I can finish this. Should be about 18ish chapters? Give or take.
> 
> WARNING: This shit gets pretty dark. Like it gets bad and bad and worse before it gets remotely better. There's a lot of mentions of a dead parent. There's also a lot of mental illness. It's written similar to my own because that is what I understand. But it's pretty bleak. I'll be adding and changing tags as I go to mirror what goes on. So this will be explicit but not until roughly chapter 8? Yea.

"Don't go in there  
You'll become one  
Freaky creatures  
Monster party  
Eyes of yellow  
Scales and feathers  
Tails in tethers  
Turn the lights off"

 _Turn the Lights Off_ by Tally Hall

“This is it.” You look down from the imposing wall in front of you and check your bag again. Plenty of potions and an assortment of other healing items rustle around and you tick them off in your head to guarantee you hadn’t forgotten anything. It's not particularly smart to go gallivanting off into the lair of a somewhat criminal organization unprepared, no matter how easily you'd disposed of these grunts. Especially with no idea of how many more there were and the fact that you were told to come alone. There were already more grunts littering the outskirts of Po Town than you'd encountered anywhere so far. They were taken care of earlier and you had returned after healing your pokemon. “Okay, easy enough,” you tell yourself. “Go in, get yungoos, get out.” You nod and stare back up at the wall again. 

The rain beats against the overhang you're under and even though it's only five-ish, the clouds make it seem like it's easily late into the evening. This is the dimmest place you've seen since you came to Alola. As a nineteen year old in a new region, you had found that your over-prepared nature worked well for you. But then again, Alola just seemed like a much more calming and easy going place. Even so far as you'd had hardly any trouble going through the trials faced here in replacement of gyms. Back home in Kanto, you had no interest in adventuring, nothing had really attracted you to the idea. But Alola. Alola was this wonderful, beautiful, completely new place to explore and get to know. You’d never realized that so many experiences could be had in just this small of an area. And it was small in comparison to Kanto. But you had no idea that a place so dazzling would end up coming with its own problems like this. 

Team Rocket back home had been rough enough to deal with. You were younger when the majority had been disbanded but you remember the struggles that they brought and the damage it did to your family. But these Team Skull members were just… well, exhausting. First of all, they were completely ridiculous what with their gang signs and whatever the fuck that walk is. At least in Kanto, when you heard the name Team Rocket, you felt threatened and uncomfortable. Now you just felt embarrassed. Second off, they were spooked so easily by being beaten. It was like they genuinely didn't know that they could get stronger. They'd just immediately run away once you caused them any trouble back. Even after their big talk. They were likely the least intimidating gang you'd ever heard of. And you had heard of many gangs and the brave trainers who faced them. You aren't really aiming to live up to those standards, but you will do your best. Thusly, you are prepared with a ridiculous amount of potions.

“Time to go.” You adjust your bag on your shoulder and open the doors. 

The rain picks up almost immediately as the door closes behind you, the wind whipping your hair around. It's not a cold rain, the drops seem oddly warm. But you're not used to tropical storms either. You can understand why the town had to build walls so high before Team Skull took control. If this is a normal storm, you can't imagine what it must be like in hurricane weather. Of course, you had brought an umbrella but you doubt that it's going to do you any sort of good here. You groan. You really hate rain. 

Walking forward, you realize that you really can't see very well in the overcast weather. But what you can see is an absolute mess. There’s graffiti everywhere, littering the road, the walls, you're certain it's even in the hedges lining the road. There's just a conglomeration of colors and designs and is that a wimpod? It's pretty good. You pause and admire it a moment before continuing down the road. You think this was probably a nice town before. The houses you can see are very expensive looking. Probably more so than any you'd personally seen in your life. You're disappointed that it's in the hands of these guys. 

Stepping over some trash in the road, you wonder how they even became this. Team Rocket had grown so radically in the underground community that people still weren't sure who they could and couldn't trust. But Team Skull here was very prominent. They didn't hide and they had a whole town. They were obnoxious in every sense of the word. Who gave this opportunity to them? Who let this happen? Every time you’ve asked someone, all you're given is a bunch of vague details and the conversation dead ends.

You focus in front of you as the wind picks up and see one of those barricades blocking the road. It takes a few more steps before you can make out two grunts standing behind it. Great. The grunts seem dismissive, like it doesn't even matter that you're here. “What's this numskull doing here? What, oh what, should we do?” You stop just short of the barricade and frown at the sing-song tone of his voice. 

“I suggest you let me in. I was invited on business,” you look them over once. “And it wasn't with either of you.”

The second grunt comes closer to the wall, becoming defensive at your words. “What was that? Think we aren't good enough?”

“Let's make it clear that you're the one who said it,” you shrug. The taller grunt grabs this one's arm.

“It ain't worth it, man. It's just one chick, not a problem. You ain't comin’ in.”

“Fine.” You back away with your hands held up and look around the street for a moment. “I'll find my own way in.” Crossing your arms, you leave the barricade and the grunts to wander around the road. It's getting gradually colder outside and you suppose it's starting to get dark. It may have been a good idea to wait til tomorrow. You're not sure how they can just stand out here like it's not a big deal. You begin to think heading back to the pokemon center would be a good idea when one of the grunts runs off into the town. You can definitely take one of them on. Two doesn't bother you either but just having to face one grunt is a walk in the park. You can’t pass up this opportunity. You turn and as if by luck, there's a hole in the bushes.

Once the other grunt faces his way down the road, you quickly run over to it, deftly ducking down and crawling underneath the unkempt branches into the lawn on the other side. There's a house that you earlier thought was gorgeous, but it's just run down. The windows are broken out and it seems to have been boarded up on the inside, there's graffiti and trash all over the yard. You can't comprehend why people would want to live like this. The house was surely in good condition when they took over, why destroy it? Not bothering to look in the house, you begin to head back towards the barricade. But you stop. The second grunt is gone as well. The road stretches on into the distance and you can make out a couple of outlines of houses and some broken down cars and an abandoned pokemon center in front of you, but no people. The rain beats down loudly against the concrete and the roofing of the nearby houses. Even if you wanted to hear people sneaking around, it'd be impossible. You can't shake the feeling that there is something wrong.

Trying to anticipate what to do next comes to an abrupt stop when lightning streaks the sky and a clap of thunder follows soon after. Deciding the storm is worsening, you run the distance to the decrepit pokemon center. Inside, the rain is almost deafening against the roof and the darkness seems to creep from every corner. You're reminded of your dad and you during a bad storm back home. The electricity had gone out and the two of you stayed underneath the kitchen table wrapped in blankets. You used to be terrified of storms. You miss him. 

The pokemon center is musty and smells weird, not quite like it's molding yet but this weather has definitely taken a toll on this building. “Fuck I'm soaked,” you whisper and pull at your tank top and capris, ringing out the water into the floor. You take your hat off but realize that it's hopeless and just put it back on. 

Lightning flashes through the windows and you freeze. The light flickers out again from the corner, you can still see a humanoid figure. Grasping at the pokeballs on your belt, you back up closer to the door. But the outline doesn't move. You hold Gengar’s pokeball tightly, moving slowly to the center of the room. Another streak of light reveals a Hypno staring steadily at you and standing over a body. You pause at the sight and thoughts flood your head. _What the hell? Why is that here? Shit, that'll mess Hauntly up real fast. Is that person dead? What if they're dead? What kind of place is this?_ You're sufficiently spooked. You figured his place would be fucking stroll in the park but the more into this town you go, the more like a horror movie it seems. Light enters again, thunder shaking the building, and you read what is hopefully a look of disinterest on the Hypno’s face. It doesn't look like it has any intention of moving.

You place your pokeballs back on your belt but keep your fingers hooked around it. Locking your eyes on the Hypno, you carefully approach the body on the floor. Whether or not this guy is in Team Skull, you have to check on him. What if he's hurt? This Hypno could be doing all sorts of shit. And if he's not part of them, that's more of a reason to help. Squatting down, you see the rise and fall of his chest and the Team Skull medallion around his neck. This idiot is just sleeping! Who sleeps in this weather? And on the floor? The Hypno is still staring at you when you look up. This place is just creepy. You're going to leave and come back in the day time. 

There's a crash outside and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of so many voices so suddenly. You give up with the Hypno and stand to look out the windows. Grunts are running in and out of houses and yards, coming to find you, you guess. They're quickly making their way this direction. You can't take on so many people at once. There’s at least a dozen of them. It’d be a foolish thing to do. The pokemart on the far side of the room has boxes lining the counter and you dart over to it, clearing the surface and hunker down on the floor. The space is small but so are you. You hold your legs to your chest and try to mellow your breathing. Hiding is better than getting your ass beat. The door slams open and you jolt, your shoe squeaking quietly against the floor thankfully hidden by the sound of glass breaking. You hover your hand over your Inceniroar. “This is the last building, she's gotta be in here!” Multiple footsteps enter the building and begin shuffling around the room. Your heart feels like it's going to beat out of your chest. 

“Tch, look at this idiot,” a female voice calls out. “Wake up, stupid. Whaddya think you're doin’?” There’s a thud and a groan.

“Th’ hell was that for?”

“Were being invaded, man. Wake the fuck up,” the first says. Yea, like little you is a whole invasion. You take their momentary distraction to peek over the counter. The two grunts you heard are telling the tired grunt what was happening and there's another leaning over the healing counter. The Hypno is still staring at you. You slump quickly behind the bar again. 

“What is up with your Hypno?” The girl asks. You tense and hold yourself with an arm, squeezing your legs as close as possible to the counter. Footsteps grow closer to you and you ready yourself to release your Inceniroar. “Leave it to the psychic ones to be weird.”

“Shut up. She's not in here anyway. I'm sure I woulda heard some bitch come in.” There's some shuffling right behind the counter and you hold your breath.

“Maybe we missed somethin’ in one of the other houses. Let's go check again,” the girl says and you hear them begin to shuffle out of the door. You release your legs and go to reposition yourself but your leg slips in the water you've dripped onto the floor. Your foot slides and an old potion bottle hits the wall behind the counter. You can't move, you hold completely still on your hands and feet, awkwardly holding yourself up. 

Waiting a full minute after you hear the door click shut, your arm begins to cramp before you attempt to move again. Peeking behind the boxes you see that the Hypno and the grunts are gone and you exhale deeply. You climb the counter and examine the broken door, rain now entering the pokemon center. “They really can be violent huh.” Out the windows, you can see them investigating around the yards again, darting into the houses and making such a commotion that more begin coming from the end of the road. There's probably fifteen or more of them that you can see. You squint at them. “That's too many, I can't deal with that. Looks like I'm going to be stuck here a while.” A shiver gets the best of you and cross your arms, realizing how cold you are in the dark. “Arceus, I hate rain.” You begin to ring your shirt out again when you hear rustling and a box falls over. Your heart drops.

“YO I FOUND HER!” You spin around and face a green-haired grunt standing behind the healing counter. “SHE’S IN HERE BOYS!” You reach for the first pokeball you can, instinct overcoming you. The ball expands in your hand just as the doors slam open again, more glass shattering to the floor.

“Drop the ball! Ya ain't winnin’ here, sweetheart!” someone shouts. You know you can't take them all. But you’ve got a few levels on them, maybe you could at least knock enough out to run. More grunts come running into the building and one of them snatches at your wrist, yanking the ball from your hand before you can command your body to move.

“Hey!” You yell and reach for it, but another grunt begins to wrestle your bag from your shoulders and the pokeballs off your belt. “Give those back!” The grunts have you surrounded but your fighting instinct flares up. “Give them back and I swear I’ll leave.”

“Yea right. The hell you gonna do without them.” One of the girls smirks at you. You glance around and the fact that you're vastly outnumbered kicks in. You can't see that well in the darkness but you can tell most of the grunts are taller than you, very few your height or shorter. You're not sure you could even make it out the door. Fear starts creeping in and you won't show them you're scared. Your hands are shaking and you clench them into angry fists.

“Look at these. These’ll catch a good price, man.” A taller grunt begins looking through your pokeballs. They're going to sell them, they're going to take them from you and then sell them. 

“Don't you touch them!” You charge towards the blue haired man, aiming to grab as many of your pokemon as you can, but your arms are restrained by some of the others.

“Man, shut ‘er up. That hollarin’ is getting annoying.”

Screeching, you begin to flail your legs at the grunts, kicking at their feet and knees. “Don’t you fucking touch them!” The grunt holding you gets a hand over your mouth, muting you for only a few seconds before you bite at his fingers to taste blood and shove your elbow into his stomach. His grip loosens.

“You fucking bi-” You lunge forward again and manage to punch the grunt holding your pokemon, three balls flying into the air as he fumbles. The man you bit grabs your arm viciously, digging his fingers in and dragging you backwards. You hardly notice as you watch the pokeballs drop, praying that they release. It feels like you can’t breath, like there's no hope past this. It's the only chance they have.

A single pokeball hits the floor face down and opens, a silence sweeping over the room when the light streaks red. Outside the lightning strikes and in the middle of the room a large pair of red eyes appear and then vanish.

“Where’d it go?!”

“SHIT. SHIT.”

“Fuck!”

“WHAT WAS THAT?”

There's a deep, rumbling laughter that radiates from the walls and into your chest. The lights begin flickering in the room, despite the fact that there seems to have been no electricity for ages. The building grows increasingly cold, the chill seeping in quick enough that you can see your breath. Out of the pokemon you could have grabbed, Hauntly was probably the luckiest you could have gotten. Skull grunts start clamouring around, trying to find some way to get at your Gengar, but the deep laughter that reverberates from the walls grow louder and louder the more panicked they get, more unhinged and manic. The fluorescent lights overhead swing erratically and the windows seem to be oozing darkness and tar into the floor. You would be terrified if this wasn't your pokemon. And you trust this Gengar more than anything. 

“Hauntly?” You speak out and a silence seizes the air, like all of the sound was sucked from the room. The lights stop creaking and the mass around you seems to take a collective breath, the grunts freezing in anticipation. The one holds your arm tighter, enough to bruise and you wince. “Get ‘em.”

A cacophony of shrieking and laughter and dissonant music fills your ears. In the darkness, you see red flashes of light signaling pokemon being released but you can't see well enough to see if they're yours or the grunts. You think you hear growling, but it could be Hauntly making those sounds, he could be making the flashes. The grunts are screaming, both terrified and trying to get Hauntly to stop. The whole space seems to be shaking like you’re in the middle of an earthquake. You can't react, too many people around, you can't see him. You can't see your pokemon anywhere. You have to get out but the grunt still has your arm.

“Get her out of here!”

“Let her go, man! This shit ain't worth it!”

“Fuck, FUCK!” 

The lights begin flashing on and off again and you can see eyes in the shadows of the grunts. The grunt holding your arm looks at you with enraged panic. “Make it stop! Make this shit stop!”

“Let us go! Let us go and it’ll stop!” You scream and the grunt let's go of your arm to cover his ears to the voices. Another runs forward, shaking his head.

“No man! She'll just come back!”

“If we can't stand this, what are we gonna do if she's stronger!”

“Get her!” The grunt dives at you, more circling and ensuring you can't get out. You begin struggling, punching wildly and trying to pull back from them but you're no match for so many people with a mob mentality. You can't resist as they grab at your arms and torso. One of their hands closes around your throat.

“Hauntly run! Open the rest and run! Haun-!” There's a loud crack and a pain begins to spread through your head. Everything is fuzzy and you can’t focus. For a second you think you see Hauntly in the ceiling, he's frowning at you. You remember more red lights and glowing eyes and lightning and rain and then darkness.


	2. Baptised by Fire

"Have you ever been alone?  
Fighting your own war?  
Someone stole the life from you  
And now they're back for more  
Your heart is on the floor  
Beating out of control  
Oh, I don't want this anymore"

 _Baptised by Fire_ by Spinnerette

When you were a child, you had no desire to travel. The farthest you’d gone was to Saffron city where your father’s work would take him. And although it was much more vibrant than your small town of Viridian, the need to go on this ‘amazing’ journey never hit. You used to watch trainers heading to the Indigo League. You'd sit at the edge of town and guide them to the pokemon center or the Pokemart and that's what you were content doing. The first thing you always noticed was how tired the trainers looked, like this task had just consumed them. Like this desire to go fight the champion had grown so strong that they just forgot everything else. There were so few who genuinely seemed to be in good health. Why would you want to subject yourself to that? Especially when you could just travel with your parents?

Your father’s passing was horrible and moving from the house that your family had grown in had exhausted your mother and yourself. But Alola was like a breath of fresh air. It was the perfect distraction. It was so full of color and life in comparison to the constant green city you'd left from. It was warm and peaceful and the trainers you saw didn't seem worn. Everything seemed so full of soul. These island trials seemed so much less demanding and the captains appeared to genuinely want to help people improve rather than only test their skills. You found an odd comfort that they didn't care that you were so old to start these trials either, they encouraged it. They actually wanted you, a stranger from Kanto, to be involved in their traditions. You were inspired. The islands seemed to almost call for you to travel across them. It was crazy how you had gone from never wanting to be included to wanting to be so wholeheartedly.

At first you depended heavily on your new friends, Hau and Lillie, despite the fact they were younger than you. Lillie often seemed as lost as you were, but she offered a good person to talk to and catch your bearings with. Hau was the one who actually knew how things worked, explaining the traditions and these variations of pokemon you'd never seen before. He would take you both to all the tasty food shops and the beaches and the stores. Looking back to life in Kanto, you can't remember ever feeling a connection like this with people. You had friends, yes, but you just never felt this completed. 

But soon your friends seemed to depend on you, too. Especially when trouble came or Team Skull began showing up. They were hardly anything more than some low level ruffians who seemed to litter the islands. They weren’t even comparable to watching Team Rocket develop in your own town. You distinctly remember meeting the man who was their leader, stoic and terrifying. Giovanni was the gym leader in Viridian, but you hardly ever would see him in public. Even before you knew that he was the Rocket leader, just the look in his eye was enough to scare you. Giovanni seemed nothing like the boss of Team Skull. Kukui encouraged you to fight Team Skull’s leader, egged him on even. Guzma was a large man, tall enough to be intimidating especially to a girl who'd just started training with pokemon. This guy had experience for what had probably been his whole life! You were so amazed when you beat him. That was a proud phone call to your mother.

But you were also confused. Once Team Rocket was exposed, everyone knew almost everything. How the organization grew right under their noses. What horrible things they had done. How they had seeped their way through Kanto and bled on into Johto. But you didn't know anything about Team Skull. For a group to be so straightforward, you really didn’t know anything about them. How was it made? What was their reasoning? You had asked and received hardly any answers. Even Professor Kukui basically told you not to worry about it. Almost all of the information you'd gathered led you to believe that the whole organization was just a bunch of rejects who hadn't been able to complete their trails. And Guzma, this leader of theirs, was just some poor man who didn't get chosen as a captain and took it horribly.

So what happened that caused such a severe backlash? Why were they so inviting to a stranger like you but would reject all these kids who were supposed to be their family? 

\--------

You come into consciousness with the sound of talking. A low buzz at first as your eyes attempt to open, but louder as you come to. Your head feels like it was swimming and there's a deep pain registering on the back of it, but the girls' voices continue on. You don't remember what happened.

“Is that my tank?”

“So what if it is?”

The voices don’t sound familiar. You lay silent for a moment trying to recollect the past few hours. The lights above you seem to be too bright as you open your eyes. You weren't in a building with light. Or electricity at all. You blink and turn your head towards the window. The rain is still going strong. Where is Hauntly?

“Look, she's awake.” You turn your head to look at the girls as they both shift to look at you.

“Better go tell the boss.” The first, a girl with braids in her hair, nods and leaves the room, the second, a dark skinned girl with tight curls, keeps staring at you with annoyance written on her face. You just turn back towards the ceiling and ignore her. Surely your pokemon got out of here. Where would they be if they didn't? You feel exhausted. Like all of the energy and the will to fight has been drained from you. You can barely even move but you try to pick up your hand anyway and rest it on your stomach. Your shirt doesn't seem as soaked as it was and you vaguely wonder how long you've been here. There's no concept of time, just all rain and clouds and lightning. 

The grunt in the room rustles something around before flopping down on a mattress. You don't bother to look at her until you smell the distinct scent of nail polish. You glance over and the grunt is sitting on the farthest mattress away from you, one leg tucked under herself and the other off the side of the bed. The polish is black.

“How long was I out?” You ask. Your voice is groggy and your throat feels like sandpaper. This really isn't an appropriate time to get a cold. The grunt doesn't bother to look at you when she replies.

“‘Bout four hours.” You turn back to the window. That makes it almost ten and you wonder what Lillie and Hau are doing right now. They were going to stay with those kids until you got back. And you should've been back by now. You stare at the rain hitting the glass for what feels like hours. You’ve not heard anything about Team Skull harming people. Just pokemon. They'll probably let you go but what if your pokemon are made to stay here? You don't know if they got away or not, Hauntly might be the only one who managed to escape. Or they might've caught him again. 

“Fuck,” the grunt says abruptly. She gets up and the sharp odor of acetone fills the room. It doesn't even seem like you're worth their time. There's another full minute of silence. “Shit.” The punk girl sighs and groans. “Hey sleepin’ beauty, you paint nails?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Look I know you're mopin’ or whatever, but ya could at least be useful.” You don't respond to her. “Suit yourself.”

“Where are my pokemon?”

“I dunno,” the grunt responds. “I wasn't there when shit hit the fan. Ya really did a number on the fam, ya know? Some of ‘em are real fucked up. Hella rude.” You hold in a scoff, like you were the rude one here. But there might be a chance that they really did get away.

The door clicks open and one of the blue haired grunts enters the room. “Yo, can you come out here for a sec. We got a problem.”

“Is it cool to leave her by herself?”

“Not like she's goin’ anywhere.” The girl groans but moves off the bed and you're suddenly very alone. You hadn't realized what an impact having pokemon had on you in terms of company. This might be the first time in months you've been completely by yourself. It almost feels hopeless. Everything has just happened too much too fast and you lost control. But you're not the type to give up like that and you won't give these bastards the satisfaction of crying.

With the grunt gone, you take the opportunity to truly get a look of the room. Four beds are shoved in the space, two to your left and another towards your feet. There is surprisingly minimal damage to the room beyond some of the bed frames looking quite old and nothing really seems clean but it's otherwise very plain. Sitting up, you scoot closer to the window and attempt to look out in the darkness. If you thought it was dark earlier, it's nothing compared to now. The storm doesn't show signs of letting up. From where you are, you can see how close you are to the city wall and also what looks to be a pool on a lower level but nothing else is visible from this angle. You assume that this is the end of the road and where the grunts were coming from. This is their base. And you're certain there's more than just fifteen of them in the building. There's really not much of a chance of running, but maybe if you can map the place out you'll get a better chance.

Standing proves to be much harder than what you remember. You frown and grip the bed post as your vision tunnels for a second and your head swims again. Rubbing the back of your head, you feel a definite knot forming. You don't know what they hit you with but they really got you good. 

There’s talking from outside the door and then the sounds of things being thrown and dropped. But they pass and the talking turns to shouting as they continue down what you guess is a hallway. You could try to leave the room. It didn't sound like they locked it. You wonder how much space you could cover before you were caught again. Maybe if you ran fast enough, you could actually make it. Not very far with wobbly legs you think. 

About the time you actually decide to reach for the doorknob, it turns on its own and opens to reveal a new grunt and he’s soaking wet. He’s taller and much broader than you and you know you can't push past him. “Were you thinking you was gonna leave?” He grins at you creepily from behind his bandana but it quickly fades as you don't answer. Instead he glances around the room. “Where’d she go? Can't even listen to orders. Whatever. Mr. Guzma wants to see ya.”

The door swings the rest of the way open and you're led out into the hall. You're hit with a mild sense of wonder at the sheer size of this place, never having been in a house this large. House is honestly an understatement. In front of your door is a grand staircase, carpeted and leading either down to a lower floor or over back up to the other side of this floor. At least it would be if not for a downed chandelier. That was probably gorgeous when it was an open space. The ceiling reaches on above you, a good few feet or more what a normal home would accommodate and what used to be a large portrait hangs in the center of the staircase, tilted almost dangerously to one side. And every bit of this amazing place has been smashed and painted and vandalized by Team Skull. It has its own sort of trashy aesthetic, you guess but you can't help but feel like it's an absolute waste.

“Are you comin’ or what?” You realize you've been standing in the doorway for what's probably too long. 

“Do I have a choice?” You retort, getting real tired of their attitude. “Because I'll just leave if it's there.” The man’s eyebrows knit together.

“Fuck you're really annoying, aren't you?” He grabs your wrist and it sends a huge piercing pain through your arm. Wincing, you yank it from his hand.

“Don't. I'm fucking coming.” He glares at you but eventually turns and heads down the opposite hall from the stairs, heading instead towards a set of glass doors. You look at your swollen wrist, red and irritated, and wonder if it’s sprained or fractured, but follow him before he gets too far. You're certain this balcony was beautiful once too, but now it's been pried open and the rain is coming inside. The carpet looks completely ruined and there's trash all over the outside. The grunt doesn't wait for you before he starts climbing over the banister. Assuming this is why he was wet, you don't question it and steel yourself to the rain, following him out the doors. There's a makeshift walkway on the other side of the balcony, shoddily put together with planks from some sort of debri. You think this could very well have been flooring from somewhere else. It leads to another window, broken glass lays all over the inside and some of the shards still hang from the top, like they just didn't bother to care. You're careful to avoid those and step down in the room.

Not even outside for possibly two minutes and you're already fucking soaked again. And to top it off, when you go back inside you see that the only thing blocking where you came from and where you are now is a pile of packaged up boxes. You turn back to the grunt with an analytical look on your face, only to see that he was watching you.

“Mr. Guzma likes his privacy,” he offers to you, shrugging. You don't understand why the fuck Guzma would make his grunts and himself walk through the rain every time they left. He keeps walking to the very end of the hall and waits outside of the door, until you get there. The grunt looks you up and down and although you're not self conscious, you know you must look like a drowned rat. Your tank and capris and shoes are again drenched and your hair is matted to your shoulders. Your hat is probably ruined at this point. He shrugs, takes a deep breath and opens the door.

“I brought her to ya, boss. Jus’ like you asked.”

Guzma’s room is unsurprisingly a disaster. A wild mess of soda cans, bottles of what you assume was alcohol, clothes, food wrappers and paper. Paint covers so much of the wall space you can only assume the original color from thin spaces between graffiti. There's a bed, huge and unkempt with sheets that look like they've seen better days, and oddly enough a literal treasure chest full of z crystals. And in the back middle of the room, is Guzma himself, white and black hair, a fluffy mass atop his head, bags under his eyes signaling that sleep is not his biggest forte, and his disheveled clothes, baggy and dark. And the part that really gets you, is the fact that he's sitting in a chair done up in purple and on a riser to resemble a throne. Now this is just ridiculous and if you were in a better mood, you’d be laughing uncontrollably. He glances up from his laptop, sitting securely on an end table, and grins. It's something malicious and condescending and quite frankly it pisses you off to be looked down on.

“Well look at that. The princess awakens,” the man stands. You hadn't gotten close to Guzma in Malie Gardens, keeping your distance for a pokemon battle and then allowing Kukui to take care of the rest. You didn't expect for the leader of Team Skull to be so tall. A literal giant of a man. He’s slouching and still manages to beat your own 5’3” by a mile. You clench your good hand at your side and focus on staying angry, making damn sure you aren't going to be intimidated by him. “It’s not often we get visitors here. What would bring a sweet thing like you all the way out to Po Town?”

“I’m here for yungoos.” You're thankful that your voice doesn't falter. “And was up to challenge you to rematch if your thugs hadn't taken my pokemon.” His eyebrows rise into his sunglasses and his grin widens.

“A rematch huh?” He looks you up and down before his gaze catches your wrist and the z ring affixed to it. His smile falls and his mood sours. The grunt beside you steps back. “Yer that cunt from Malie Gardens.” He straightens up, towering over you at his full height, and walks until he's leaning in your face. “What right didya have comin’ in here and treatin’ my boys this way? What makes you think you're going to get this yungoos now?” You stare him straight in the eye. You can't answer him. You're afraid that if you open your mouth, you'll fumble with words and you’d rather just keep your face steeled. He sneers at you and shrugs. “No answer. Lucky for you,” he begins, backing away, “we specialize in sellin’ pokemon. Tell you what, we'll letcha buy th’ kid’s yungoos back.” He sits back in his throne and fiddles around on his laptop. “Not to mention all the mental shit you done to the family. That’ll cost ya. But it doesn't look like ya have any money on ya.”

“Give me my stuff and I’ll pay whatever you want.” He laughs at you, plain and harsh laughter. 

“Nah, nah, nah. That's not how we work here, babe. Finders keepers. Looks like you’ll have to pay another way.” He locks his eyes with yours. Even with your determination, you can't help but feel like he's looking straight through you, like he knows that you've nearly had it. “Tell ya what, you take care of these kids, fix ‘em food, maybe teach them how to win a fight, and when we say so, yer free to go. Maybe you'll even get your junk back.”

“What about my pokemon! Where are they!” He looks mildly surprised by your outburst but quickly grins at you again.

“I'll decide if ya can have ‘em back based on your, let's call it good behavior.”

What choice do you have? You could leave and likely never see your pokemon again, but you'd get out of here with your dignity. You know you can't. You can't leave them behind. Abandoning them would be one of the worst things you could do in your life, no matter the humiliation you have to go through. And that includes playing Cinderella to some shitty criminal organization. “Fine.”

He laughs again, and moves from his chair, clapping his arm around your shoulder and turning you back towards the door. “You’ll see we ain't all that bad, princess. Maybe you’ll even wanna join us.” You feel dwarfed by his height, his hand spanning your entire shoulder, and the loud tone in his voice carries out into the hallway. You know he's celebrating his own small victory, proving to his underlings that he could win against you in some way. The grunt exits before you and Guzma shoves you out into the hallway, nearly driving you into the team Skull member. “Get ‘er set up for the night. She’s got a long day tomorrow.” The door slams shut.

The man beside you exhales deeply and pulls his bandana off his face. “What the fuck did you do to him?” You whip your head around to him.

“Don’t take that tone for someone who was just wetting his pants.” The grunts face slowly turns red.

“You really have no idea do ya. That went smooth as hell. Really coulda ended up a whole lot worse. You need to learn some fear, girl.” 

“And you need to grow some balls.” He ignores you and leads you back through the exterior and to the room you were originally in. You go in without another word to him, seeing that the grunt from earlier is in there, her bandana and hat are off and her curly hair is beginning to frizz.

“You lived? Great,” she says sarcastically and you make a mental note that all these grunts have horrible attitudes. How the hell are you going to put up with them? She's finishing up her nails from earlier and makes a final stroke before glancing up at you. “You're not sleeping in the beds like that again.” 

“Yea I didn't really plan on it.” You retort and, quite simply, begin making yourself at home. If you’re going to be stuck here, you’re going to make yourself as comfortable as possible. Your shoes are kicked off to the end of the bed you were in earlier and you hang your socks over the edge. You start to take your shirt off when the girl scoffs at you.

“Fuck I didn't mean ya had to get naked. Shit. Let me get ya some fucking clothes. Stay here.” She leaves. 

“What have I done?” You sit on the end of the bed, staring at the cracks in the wall. You can't help but think that you should have left when you saw the hole in the bush. That wasn't an opportunity. That was a death wish. “Yea here's your yungoos but I might've been Team Skulls’ personal bitch. I'm a fucking idiot.” But your pokemon need you. You can do this. You will do this and you will get your pokemon back. 

The grunt comes in the room again and throws a set of clothes at you and what seems to be some ace bandages. You’re suddenly aware of your wrist again. “I hate to share a look with someone like you, but we’ll say I'm feeling generous and leave it. I'll accept your thanks now.” 

“Yea, thanks,” you murmur and unfold the clothes. It's of course one of their uniforms. You wonder if they even have other clothes in the mansion. Facing away from her, you strip and redress with these much dryer and surprisingly much better feeling clothes. You lay all your clothes out on the bed frame and hope they'll be dry tomorrow. You don't want to wear this stupid shirt for long. You look at grunt and see that she's watching you too. You're not embarrassed, you don't really get embarrassed, but you're a little miffed that she probably just watched you. “Don’t get too comfortable, hun. We don’t take too kindly to goody-two-shoes trainers here.” You roll your eyes. 

You remember earlier your thoughts of where they came from and you wonder what happened to her to bring her here. You make the decision to cross the room and sit at the end of her bed. “Let me see your nails,” you say and hold out your hand.

“I don't need your help now, they're done.” But she hands her hand to you anyway. She obviously keeps up with hers a lot better than you ever have your own.

“You got any white?” She groans but leans under her bed and pulls out a box. It must be the same she had when you heard all the rustling earlier. 

“This is what I got.” You dig around and find a white nail pen that seems like it’s seen better days. You remove the cap and start trying to flick the dried pieces off. “We bought those ‘cause we thought we'd be hella sick with the x’s too. Turns out none of us can use it worth a fuck.” The top finally chips off and you squeeze a little out of the end. You reach for her hand again. “If you fuck ‘em up I'll kick your ass.” You quickly get out an x on her ring finger and make an attempt to make the skull logo on her thumb, eventually having to reach for her chain to make sure it's right. You let her have her first hand back and she gives you the other. “Oh man, I'm gonna be hot shit!” She says gleefully, starting to blow on her nails. You finish the second hand and she looks at you contemplatively. 

“Thanks for getting me dry clothes.” You say it sincerely. She could have left you to get sick on top of all the shit that's gone down. And even if it was only out of pity, or because you were going to get naked, it's an act of kindness. She makes an expression like she isn't sure what to do. 

“I mean, yea it was no problem. Uh, thanks for the nails I guess.” You nod at her and stand back to go to your given bed. “Hey, lettin’ ya know now, some of the girls stay out pretty late. I dunno when they'll be back.” You just nod again. You're exhaustion is creeping back into you, your bones feeling heavier and heavier. Falling back into the bed, you can barely get the comforter down enough to lay under. It's not damp and you wonder if one of them changed the covers. The thought of your bed at home is the last coherent thought you manage. You think the grunt was still talking to you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why not post two chapters at once? Might as well. Reminder to pay attention to tags.
> 
> Now with a playlist!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6egIBAq5P0492MibG9PiD7?si=2OuRbiWpQPiFolE7SXbK4w


	3. It's Alright

"Oh, hey  
I had a night I had a day  
I did one million stupid things  
I said one billion foolish things  
I'm not okay  
I got a baseball bat beside my bed  
To fight off what's inside my head  
To fight off what's behind my meds  
I'm lonely, lost in pain"

 _It's Alright_ by Mother Mother

It's midday and the sun is shining and the pidgeys are tweeting and it feels like today is a new morning. 

“Alright ya little shits! Ya boy Guzma has a surprise for ya!” Except for it's not. You're not sure if the sun even shines in Po Town. The rain stopped sometime in the early morning, but grey skies and wet ground doesn't seem to make it any better in the large lawn of the mansion. At least you're not cold. You stand in front of as many Skull grunts they could conjure up, a chunk looking like they'd just rolled out of bed, many seeming entirely indifferent, and the majority with their eyes burrowing daggers into you. You're sure some of them are the ones from yesterday in the pokemon center. And for once, you're incredibly self conscious. “I've went and got you idiots a fucking trainer. Fuck knows what ya did to deserve it, but yer boy has to take care of his fam.” He places his hand on your shoulder and shoves you forward. You hate this. The whole idea seems worse than when he pitched it last night. You wish you were waist deep in their nasty laundry instead. At least then you wouldn’t have so many eyes on you. “Now you're gonna listen to…” Guzma stops and you turn to look at him. “What's even yer name?”

“Its Moon.” There's a few snickers from the group and you can feel your cheeks burning. Guzma’s stupid grin curls up his cheeks.

“What the fuck kind of name is Moon?”

“What kind of fucking name is Guzma!” You retort angrily. He snorts.

“Right. Ya’ll just listen to, uh ha, Moon here and learn a fucking thing or two.” There are a few confirmations from the grunts and then Guzma turns to leave you with them. 

“Wait,” you call out before he can reach the house. “I'm going to need some pokemon.” He looks at you skeptically. 

“You're not gonna get them that easy.”

“No. How am I supposed to train them without battling?” He nods in understanding and walks back up to you. He pulls his hand from his pocket and hands you a pokeball. 

“That’s fair. Treat ‘im good.” He walks off, waving nonchalantly behind him at his grunts. You turn back and you can't help but feel overwhelmed again. How were you supposed to do this? You don't know anything about teaching. And you certainly don't know if you can handle these people after yesterday. 

“Well, let’s do this. Who is first?” There's silence. A group of them begin talking and walk away and you just let them, how're you supposed to stop them? You nervously tap at the pokeball in your hand. There's a groan and the grunt who is your temporary roommate steps forward. It honestly makes you feel better. 

“Alright, Moon. Whad’ya gotta teach us?”

“Uh, right. Let's start with a battle I guess.”

“Sounds easy enough,” she throws her own pokemon forward and it releases. A rattata squeaks and bares its fangs at you. You throw the pokeball that Guzma handed you. You hope you can win with whatever the hell it is. The light flashes and an ariados pops out. This might turn out better than what you thought. The ariados turns, skeptical of it’s environment and when it lays its eyes on you, it immediately seems uninterested. It also begins to leave and within seconds it's scaling the wall to the second floor. Great.

The grunts roar with laughter. This is humiliating and you feel like Guzma knew that it wouldn't listen to you. This is some sort of shit payback. You purse your lips before trying to put on a straight face and pivot back to the grunts.

“Some kind of trainer you are,” one of them says, still cracking up, bending to hold his stomach. The grunts around him snickering horribly. You point at him.

“Okay, you. Question one, why -if Ariados had battle- why would rattata had lost?” He grins at you but stands straight, arms crossed.

“That's easy,” he says. “Mr. Guzma’s pokemon are crazy better than ours.” You falter.

“I, uh, no. That's just not… okay.” You think about your words carefully. “For the rest of these ‘lessons’, let's not look at certain pokemon as being better because of whose they are. In terms of these lessons, Guzma is now on the same playing field as you.” They seem stunned that you'd even compare their boss to them, but you continue. “So no, that's the wrong answer. You.” You point out another grunt, he's a little shorter than the rest and towards the front. He’s alarmed at being pointed out. “Same question. Why would rattata have lost?”

The grunt blinks at you and kind of looks at the others for an answer but never responds to you. Your opponent sighs. “It's because he’s a dark type.” 

“Thank you!” You exclaim and throw your hands up. “Before you ever assume that you’ll lose because of a pokemon’s level, think of whether or not you have an advantage.”

“Oh that's easy. What kind of bullshit question is that?” The laughing grunt says in annoyance.

“Then next time, don't give me a dumb answer if you know the real one.” You ignore him and glance at the rest of the group. “If rattata is dark, what is he strong against?” 

Some hands go up and you're surprised. A little recognition probably doesn't hurt. You point in the middle of the group towards a taller girl with messy hair sticking out of her hat. “Ghost!”

“Good! What else?” You choose another person.

“Psychic?” 

“Look at that, you all are smarter than you look.” The rattata has moved to her trainer by the time you look again. “I guess you can put her away if you want. No point in a battle if the pokemon won't listen to me.” She nods but leaves the rattata free. “So I guess some of you know type matchups and some of you don’t. I think this is a basic that every trainer should understand in order to have an advantage.”

“So what, yer assigning us homework?”

“Yea woah I didn't sign up for that shit.”

“And, I'd rather not even have to deal with you, but if you'd like to take up this position with your boss, I would absolutely love to leave.” They don't say a word and you frown. It was worth a shot.

You see a hand fly up into the air. “Yes?”

“Alright so type or whatevs, but most of us only have a few pokemon. How're we supposed to stand up to people like you who have a lot?” 

“Short answer, get stronger. No offense, but one on one I was able to wipe the floor with most of you. Reason being my team was stronger than yours and I know my type advantages. Do you even train your pokemon? Like you have a whole field out those walls with wild pokemon. And you have each other. Like have some battles. You can't just expect it to happen.” They seem to at least consider the information you've given them, but you have to ensure that they're actually going to do this. “Let's make this fun. I will assign teams. Within these teams, I expect you to learn your type matchups and also to level your pokemon. Whichever teams can accomplish both of these within my unfortunately indefinite stay here, wins.” Light bulbs start going off in some of their heads. You thought they’d like games.

“What're we gonna win?”

“Uhhhh, I don't know, the title of being better than the other ones? I’ll think of something. Stand in a line so I can make your teams.” You're honestly surprised they manage to make a decent line, the way the scramble and push and shove each other around. Starting at the left, you give every 5 grunts a letter, the first being A, second B, and so on through E until you're left with your roommate. Making the group an uneven 31. You remember the ones running off earlier and wonder if you should go find them before you're struck with an idea. “You’ll be on my team.” She’s dumbstruck for a moment.

“Excuse me?” 

“I don't know how to deal with this bunch of how this place functions. You can be on my team and help me deal with them.”

“So like I'm getting a promotion?”

“Uhh, for this purpose, yes.” 

“Oh man! That's so dope, girl!” She grins and smacks your arm.

“So feel free to ask me any questions. I'll answer all of them as best I can. I expect to be checked in with, if you all are serious.” Some of them shuffle around but they just continue looking at you. “You can leave I guess.” They run off quickly, some with their groups and some just by themselves. At least that's fucking over. 

“Hey,” you say to the grunt next to you. “What's your name?” She blinks at you. You've never heard them refer to each other by name. 

“Grunt.” You stifle a laugh.

“No really, what's your name? Like your real one. I'm not going to call everyone here grunt, that's stupid.” She looks distrustfully at you but finally opens her mouth.

“It's Cheri,” she replies quietly.

“Alright, Cheri. We’re going to have some work to do.”

\-------

“Moon, you can't just go in there.” Cheri is following you over the balcony. You're heading towards Guzma’s room with a bone to pick about that Ariados. You might be stuck here but you're not just going to take humiliation laying down. 

“It'll be fine,” you reply. You really have no idea what’ll happen when you go and chuck this pokeball at his stupid face. “I have to return this, no big deal.”

“I don't peg you as the type a girl to not make a ‘big deal’. How ‘bout you just let me return it to the boss?” You climb down the window back into the house, waiting for her to come through. 

“No, I think it's my responsibility to return it. Since he so kindly gave it to me and all.” You start to turn around down the hall but she catches your arm.

“Look, I like ya pretty alright and I don't want to see your dumbass get hurt over something like this.” You face her in disbelief.

“Why are you all so afraid of him? Like I can't get why you would be so afraid of someone but still fucking respect them.” Her lips tighten into a thin line but she doesn't reply. “I'm not going to be afraid of him. That kind of power has already gone to his head enough.” You remove her fingers from your arm and continue down the hall and before she can stop you, you throw the door open. Guzma is leaning back in his chair, scrolling on his laptop. His nonchalance immediately pisses you off, but then he looks at you with that fucking grin and you wish you could fucking make him eat this pokeball.

“Do you actually want me to train your ‘boys’ or do you just want me to look like an idiot?”

“What's that saying? Por qué no los dos?” He chuckles. You throw the empty pokeball at him hard enough you hear the impact with his chest. He frowns.

“You can have your pokemon back. Seems pretty useless in battle.”

“There ain't anythin’ wrong with my pokemon.” 

“No I'm sure they're great! Except they're yours. And from experience, I can vouch that I ran them into the fucking dirt.”

“You're about to regret that mouth.” 

“Give me a better pokemon.”

“There's nothing fucking wrong with mine!”

“Then make it listen to me!”

He crosses the room so fast that you hardly register what's happening until the door is slammed shut and Guzma has you by the arm. “Let's get some things straight, princess. If I give you something, you're gonna see it as a gift. And you’ll fucking appreciate it.” You attempt to wrench your arm away but he holds it tighter and you wince. “Nuh uh. I'm not finished. You’re free to leave whenever you want, but while you're here, I'm in control. And everythin’ ya do to challenge that will have consequences. And ya don’t want anything to happen to your team, do ya?” You want to punch him in his stupid face. His height dwarfs you, but if you could get one good punch in, you'd fucking take it. “Answer me.”

“Fine.” He let's go of your arm and the blood goes rushing back to it. You didn't even realize it was going numb, but the pain is suddenly intense and sharp. It brings your anger back out. 

“Good. Now get out.” You rush out the door and slam it behind you. Cheri is standing at the end of the hall and she frowns. You forgo the balcony and shove the boxes out of your way and climb over the remaining, causing what destruction hasn't been made in here. The bedroom calls your name and you throw yourself onto your bed, curling into an angry ball. 

You want to go home. This never would have happened if you had just turned back. You'd be out under the stars with your pokemon. Hauntly would be scaring the shit out of your lycanroc, Cina would be snoring in his sleep and you’d be feeding Baby pokebeans. But no, you had to do this. You had to be the hero. You aren't the person those stories are about. You're just a shitty girl who got her pokemon taken from her.

You're alone in the room for a while. There are sounds from the other rooms and some grunts running through the halls, and you end up dozing for a bit. You barely even hear your door open. There's a weight on the end of your bed. “I told you so,” Cheri says.

“Yeah thanks for that.” 

“The boys have been asking about you. They got some questions.” You roll over to face her.

“Can they wait?”

“I've been keepin’ ‘em out but I dunno how many more questions I can answer.”

“Yea okay fine.” You sit up and straighten your shirt. She observes you for a second.

“Girl you look like shit,” she comments and you scowl. She stands up and throws you a hair brush. You brush your hair down. “I'm gonna let ‘em in okay?”

“How many are there??”

\-------

Ten minutes later and fifteen grunts have shoved themselves in the room, sitting all along the beds and the floor and you're shoved in the corner, sitting on the window sill. One of them even has a notebook and you're genuinely surprised. You didn't expect them to take anything seriously. 

“So uh, you all had some questions?”

“Yea! I wanna know what my girl’s good against.” A grunt from the farthest bed says. He’s a larger man and isn't wearing his hat or bandana.

“You don't know?”

“Nah. I jus’ got her the other day.” He looks down sheepishly. “But I wanna raise her real special, ya know.” 

“Alright, we’ll work on that then. Well, do we just want to go through some matchups? I can give you all a list to study or something?”

“Yea that's awesome!” 

You didn't expect them to actually want to learn, but these grunts are trying to just soak up as much information as possible from you. And you honestly enjoy it. The way they're asking questions and the one shared some paper with the others. Some of them are just typing them in phones or pokedexes. It's amazing. 

“Hey, yo. What level will my Mareanie evolve at?”

“That's a good question! Uh, you, how much of your pokedex do you have filled out?” The grunt with the pokedex looks up at you. 

“I dunno.” She replied shortly. 

“Um. How do you not know?”

“It ain't mine.” You just nod at her slowly. Okay. You just won't broach that topic, it's fine, let it go. 

“Well, then, to tell you the truth,” you turn back to the first grunt. “I'm not sure. I hadn't caught one yet.”

“What do you mean you hadn't caught one yet! Aren't you like, all knowing or somethin’?”

“I can spit out a lot of information about a lot of pokemon. But I've never seen half of the pokemon here. I've only been in Alola for like 3 months.”

“Holy shit! Really? Where ya from?” You take it as even though these islands are an obvious tourist place, they really don't get to interact with people from other countries much. It'd make sense for them to stay in Alola their whole life. 

“No, no. Look if I'm gonna tell you all about me, you have to tell me about you.” Some of them shift uncomfortably and you're confused. “I mean I guess you don't have to but if I'm going to be here, I don't want to just call you all ‘you’ and ‘you’ and ‘you’. I'd like to get to know you.” A grunt stands up from the front. He looks a lot younger than the rest. 

“I'm Marshall.” He says firmly. 

“Good to meet you Marshall.” He blushes fiercely and quickly scrambles back down. He couldn't be older than twelve, but you don't question it. It's probably not the time. A taller girl stands from the back and crosses her arms.

“Yo, my name’s Lea and I ain’t from here either.” A lot of the grunts turn to her, some wide-eyed and it seems to make her nervous. “I'm from Hoenn. My dad made us come when I was a kid.” There are a few whispers and she glares at them. “Don't nun uh y'all be talkin shit or I’ll beatcha ass.” They quickly shut up and she sits down. This goes on for a few minutes, some of them only give you their name and you're okay with that. You didn't mean for this to be some weird feelings anonymous group, but it genuinely comforts you to know that some of these men and women and kids were just ordinary people. 

“It's your turn,” Ian, the grunt who had asked about you first, says. 

“Yea, okay. I lived in Kanto with my mom and dad. We lived in Viridian City which is one of the last places you go before the Pokemon League. In Kanto, we have gyms instead of trials and gym leaders instead of captains. And Viridian City had the strongest Gym Leader.”

“That town sounds familiar.” Another grunt turns to him. 

“Yea it was like in the news or some shit. Like years ago.” Some of the younger ones look confused.

“Yea, Team Rocket was founded in Viridian. That Gym Leader was who started the whole thing.” There are some excited whispers and Cheri clears her throat to get them to be quiet.

“So what made ya’ll move to Alola?” 

“Um,” you freeze for a minute. You realize that within the three months you've been here, you haven't had to talk about this. Hau knew before you got here, Kukui had told him and Hala. Lillie never asked and you guess you were thankful she hadn't because now that you have been, you aren't sure what to say. “I actually just moved here with my mom. My dad passed away. And rather than my mom trying to find work in Kanto, she thought that this would be a, uh, better opportunity for us both.” The group shifts uncomfortably and you look at the bed sheets. “He had been working in a lab in Saffron and he'd been exposed to some pretty nasty shit. Turns out Team Rocket owned the lab and they'd been tricking a lot of the scientists into doing all these crazy experiments. There were a lot of them exposed. My dad was just one of few to die from it.” You can feel your eyes starting to get hazy and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying. You didn't really mean to keep talking, it just sort of happened. Maybe you just needed to let it out but you have these grunts so much information about yourself. Now you just feel upset and uncomfortable. 

Cheri seems to read the mood and she shifts off the bed. “Alright, I think we're done for the night. Time to get out of my room.” There are some groans as they stand and they thankfully start talking so loudly that you can breath again without them hearing a sob. The little one, Marshall, runs up and hugs you before following the others out the door. You wipe the tears out of your eyes while Cheri escorts the rest out of your room. You're again struck with the knowledge that you still don't know what these kids are here for. 

The door clicks closed and Cheri looks at you with a tired expression. “Sorry, Moon. I didn't think-” You wave your hand at her.

“No it's fine. I hadn't let it out yet.” Chuckling, you look up at the ceiling as more tears try to come out. You exhale to try to calm down again. Cheri flops down on your bed and after a minute of silence, you look at her.

“Cheri, why are you here?” She blinks at you in surprise, like no one ever cared to ask her and then she looks away.

“My dad kicked me out,” she says flatly. “He was a drunk half the time, but I couldn't win any battles or get any cash or hold a job. He told me I was worthless and threw me out on the street.” You contemplate saying sorry, but you don't think she’d appreciate it. Instead you grab her hand. 

“Thanks for telling me.” She laughs and yanks her hand away.

“Look girl I'm gay but I ain't that sappy gay. You can keep that shit.” You both laugh and she leaves to her side of the room. You're both quiet as you get ready for bed and she turns the lights out. You're staring up at the ceiling, listening to the light drizzle of rain when she speaks up again. “This place is the first place I've ever felt like I belonged to somethin’. I know we’ve caused you shit and we do a lot of bad stuff, but we’re a family and we take care of each other.” You're both quiet again.

“I thought you said you weren't the sappy gay.” A pillow hits you in the face.

“Shut up!” She laughs. 

You fall asleep much easier than the night before. If the days went like the end of this one, you think you might make it out of this okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live off comments but kudos are fine too! :)
> 
> Now with a playlist!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6egIBAq5P0492MibG9PiD7?si=2OuRbiWpQPiFolE7SXbK4w


	4. OK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol changes people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags, thanks.
> 
> Now with a playlist!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6egIBAq5P0492MibG9PiD7?si=2OuRbiWpQPiFolE7SXbK4w

"I think I'm running out of time  
All I seem to leave behind's destruction  
I can't undo what I have signed  
It's no way to take back time  
I loved them

Nobody wanted to find me  
A way back to guide me  
Kept feeling like I wasn't right  
Maybe I'm encapsulating  
Somebody else saving  
You really need to just sit tight"

 _OK_ by 8 Graves

For two weeks, you’re stuck teaching the grunts like you’re some sort of teaching-slave and they’re your slave-students, all of you forced together by the man who spends all his time in his room. It’s easy to tell that a lot of them just absolutely don’t want to be near you or listen to anything that you say, probably just as much as you really don’t want to be here talking to them. But their boss is very adamant about them getting stronger. And very adamant about not giving your pokemon back. You’re not certain if it’s really to help them or to just drive you fucking crazy. It could be both.

Ever since you’d shown up, there’s been a select few who have done nothing but taunt you and you have done very good to ignore them. You control yourself pretty well, despite the fact that you would really like to fight them.

Most of them are boys that you guess are just mad that you, or Hauntly rather, managed to fuck them up in the pokemon center. The girls you’ve mostly managed to make cool with, either just building up some mutual respect or actually making somewhat friends. But you suppose these boys just feel like you’ve taken their ‘manliness’ and crushed it. Which you’re completely fine with. Some of them deserve it, you think.

Three in particular are just shit stains that you really wish would choke on air. Jace, some tall jerk with green in his hair. You remember him particularly well as the asshole who outed you to everyone as being in the pokemon center. Hale, which was not his real name you've surmised, is the very tall and very broad jerkass who so nicely escorted you to your first run in with Guzma while in the house. He makes it a point to block your way to anything that you need if you’re in the same room, probably because you’re short and you know that he thinks he’s so fucking funny. 

And the worst is Jeriah, the little leader of the other two. You didn’t really interact with him until you’d been here a few days. He, so politely, reminded you that you bit him and made him bleed (and what are turning into scars on his hand) when he tried to grab you in the pokemon center. He hasn’t confirmed it, but you’re positive he’s also the one who fucked up your wrist.

They aren’t hostile towards you, not in the house and not if you’re out in the yard training. But you can see it boiling just below the surface. Especially Jeriah who you sometimes catch leering at you from across the room, sending your nerves on fire and starting a crawling sensation in your stomach. So you've started a habit of If you see that they are in a room that you’re going into, you don’t go in, you just turn yourself around and go a different direction before they manage to see you. If they came into a room and you were able to leave, you did so as quickly as possible. 

Despite them, the others are turning out to be alright. When you aren’t playing school, the lot of you sit and talk a lot. Some of them tell you about what they want to do, about their pokemon, or in the future. Very few of them tell you about where they’re from or how they managed to get here. But none of it is good. You’re not surprised about the amount of runaways but the reasons they present you with weigh in your mind when you try to sleep at night. You try to tell yourself that it’s not your business and that you shouldn’t get involved. You don’t think it's working very well.

On the Thursday of the second week, you’re fucking tired. Other than Saturday when a lot of the team disappeared for hours, you’ve not had a break from this. Having dozens of teens and adults vying for your attention is exhausting and yesterday you finally demanded a day off. Which actually just consisted of politely telling them you needed a break. Literally all of them were relieved for a day off, too. So here you are, laying in the bed you claimed and trying so desperately to take a nap.

It’s in vain. The grunts seem to be in absolutely some sort of riot stage, running around the manor screaming and cheering and you suppose throwing shit because every so often you hear things hitting walls and possibly glass breaking. You’re literally going to go crazy in this house. There’s a fist against the door, startling you, and opening to reveal Lea. She’s without her hat and bandana, her red hair a bit of a mess and her cheeks seem a little flushed. 

“What’re you doin’ up here by yourself?” 

“I’m just, I dunno, enjoying the not-silence I guess.” Lea leans against the doorframe, shaking her hand through her hair and laughs.

“Girl, come on downstairs. Come get you a drink.”

“‘Drink’. Like alcohol?” Suddenly all the noise makes a lot more sense. You push yourself up in the bed.

“Are you serious? Y’ain’t ever had a drink?”

“I’m. Well no.” She grins, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up from the bed. 

“Come on! We’ll getcha taken care of.” You’re dragged out into the hallway and towards the stairs. You want to protest, the only time you’ve drank anything was like a glass of red wine with your mom after your dad passed. It was fine you guess, but it’s not something that you super loved the feeling of. You suppose that could be because you were thinking about your dead father the whole time.

As you're brought down, some of the grunts start shouting, catcalling and hooting at you. Lea sits you down next to Ian and Cheri comes and flops down on your other side, chuckling as she falls harder than what she meant to. You can almost smell the alcohol seeping off of her. Especially when she sits back up and grabs your face.

“Moooooon, you shouldn’t be alone. We got you, girl. We got you.” She grabs a drink being brought to her by someone else, you’re not sure who because she still has your face in her hand, and she starts to bring the drink to your mouth. You try to hold onto her but she pushes right through your hands and tips the cup into your mouth leaving you with two options. You take the less messy option and open your mouth. It’s disgusting, making you swallow quickly rather than hold it in. You guess it’s what they could afford, but it’s almost bitter and makes you want to gag. But you also immediately feel the warmth flowing through your chest and shoulders.

Cheri lets up so you can breathe and you go into a coughing fit. “There ya go hun. Take ya a minute.”

“Fuck, what is that?” She takes a sip of it and scrunches her face together.

“Eugh, the strong shit. Nasty as fucck.” She tilts it into your mouth again. It doesn’t such nearly as much the second time and you try to swallow a good deal down so maybe she’ll let you be. Yea right.

\--------

“So no, no no. I’ve had Hauntly for a loooong time. I didn’ even know there _were_ gastly on the islands!”

“Oh my god, really?”

“Yea like listen. There’s this place in, in Kanto, where I’m from. It’s called Lavender Town. And it has this tower there when I was little that was like a _huuuuuge_ pokemon cemetery. I think it’s like a radio tower or somethin now.”

“Holy shit what?”

“Oh yea! Everybody knew a pokemon that had been buried there. But we went to put flowers on my dad’s arcanine from when he was a kid. And this gastly just followed us around absolutely everywhere. Ended up haunting me all the way back home. Had ‘im ever since.”

“Shit I couldn’t do a ghost type. I can’t even stand seein’ boss’ bugs everywhere.” Ian shivers and holds himself. 

“Fuckin’ right!” Cheri shouts.

“I mean look. You live with a ghost and there isn’t much more that’s gonna scare you.”

“Ugh. I guess. Let’s talk about somethin else that ain’t bugs or ghosts.”

Someone passes you another cup and you take it. You’re not completely certain how many you’ve had, but you’ve quickly learned that you’re a lightweight. One was enough to have you a little wobbly. Looking over, you think at least four of those are yours. But you drink this last one down as someone starts talking about a board game. You lean into Cheri while they set it up, shoving cards and pieces at people. You don’t even think all of those are from the same game. But you’re not going to play as is.

“Hey Cheri, speaking of bugs, why isn’t boss-almighty down here? This seems like his kinda shit.” She hums at you, shaking her head as she swallows her drink. You’ve not had it yet, it’s in a bottle and you make a reach for it. She let’s it go easily into your fingers.

“He doesn’t drink or smoke with us. He jus’ stays upstairs.” She starts whispering. “It's a good thing though. He has a habit of pickin’ fights when he’s drunk.” You groan at her in disgust and take a swig of her bottle. It’s a lot fruitier than what you’ve been drinking and you’re jealous. She takes it back from you and shakes the bottle at Marshall who is sitting on the cooler. They only let him have one. Which you’re absolutely relieved about. Baby too little to be drinking. You watch as Lea walks over and just picks the boy up like he’s nothing, pulling a few more bottles from the cooler before sitting him down. It didn’t take long for you to realize that Lea was definitely one of the muscles around here. There a few of them, bulked out more than the others, that do all the heavy lifting. You’re kind of amazed by it really.

You find a bottle of it in your hands before you find yourself looking at Cheri again. What were you talking about again? Oh. “I wasn’t aware that he could be more of a prick.” She snorts.

“Well… to be honest yea.” She laughs to herself, trying to stay quiet. “You’d be surprised. Just like, avoid him.”

“Ugh that’s all you all ever do.”

“And we’re alive aren’t we?”

“Well I guess…. Pansy.” You both break out laughing, finding your own joke hilarious and almost falling back onto the floor. As if on cue, when you open your eyes, you see Guzma standing in his _special_ hallway, leaning over his _special_ banister with a bottle in his hand. He wasn’t looking at you but when you see him, it’s like he knows you were going to look and your eyes meet. He looks bored at first, but seems much more frustrated when he notices you. You laugh again and flip him off before taking a big drink. He’s gone when you glance back up. 

“You really can’t do what everyone else does, can you?” Cheri lays down next to you on the floor. “Mmm, I hope you make it through this. I kinda like you.”

“Awwww. That’s fuckin’ gross.” You tell her and bop her nose with your finger.

“Oh fuck yea it was. You must just have some sort of weird thing where you make people say weird shit.” 

“Oh god maybe. That would explain so much of my life.” No one is really playing the game that had been brought out. Every so often you’ll see someone throw a card in but there’s nothing to it. You realize people are getting tired, laying either there on the floor or trying to make their way upstairs. You aren’t really tired, but with how everyone is, you decide that maybe you should go claim your bed before someone else manages to get it. You have a feeling that it would end up in a fight. “Hey, let’s go to bed.”

“Why, what time is it?”

“Oh um. I dunno.”

“Mm. That might be a good idea then.” You both sit up and help each other gather your stuff and make it up the stairs. There are already girls laid all over their beds but yours manages to be free. Cheri’s bed also ends up free when she wraps another girl in the blanket and sets her off the bed with your help. She doesn’t even wake up. You sit your bottle in the windowsill when you climb into your bed. It’s raining outside, but just a gentle pattering against the window and you immediately feel so heavy and tired.

“Goodnight Cheri.” You look over at her and she’s already out, completely gone. God you hope that you fall asleep that

\--------

You groan. Your eyes adjust to the dark when they open, it’s obviously still night outside. Why are you awake? Rolling over to face the room, everyone is still asleep, snoring away in their own beds when it finally hits you. You really fucking have to pee. You sigh in annoyance but roll to stand off the bed anyway. If you make it quick, maybe your body will decide to go back to sleep peacefully.

\--------

“Guys come on. Some of us actually have to use the bathroom.” You smack your fist against the bathroom door again but the grunts that are in there just ignore you, obviously having some good good fun. Moans fill the bathroom again and you roll your eyes and groan. “God dammit you all. I swear if I figure out who you are imma beat your ass.” You turn around and slam your back against the door, momentarily dizzy.

You haven’t figured out why there is a severe lack of toilets in this place, one on this side of the floor, one on Guzma’s side of the floor, and the ever-broken toilet on the bottom floor. You would imagine that in a house as large as this one, the previous owners may have put enough bathrooms to be adequate. Then again, they likely didn’t think that there were going to be so many people living in their house.

You stare across the banisters to the other side of the floor. Surely Guzma was asleep by now. Surely. You look to your left and then to your right, you don’t see anything and you certainly don’t hear anything over the commotion going on behind you. Pushing off the wall, you very quietly step your way through the wall of boxes and to the bathroom that has specifically been claimed for Guzma, as if he has a reason to need this whole bathroom. 

The door is unlocked, not that you ever thought that it would be or anything. The bathroom is just as much of a mess as the rest of the house, maybe even grosser with the fact that there are shaved hairs all over the sink and the toilet looks like it hasn’t been scrubbed in… a while. The rest of the house’s bathrooms stay relatively clean since most of the girls would anarchy at the thought of this mess. You grimace and try not to think about it as you quickly do your business. Standing back up, you pause to wonder if you should flush. No. Not only would he hear you if you were to flush it, but also the idea of leaving him a dirty toilet is just a great idea. In fact… You start moving his things around. Not terribly noticeable you don’t think, but enough that he’ll be confused in the morning.

Satisfied, you turn the light off and gently click the door open.You look down the hall towards the broken windows, floor as clear as it was when you went through earlier. Pushing it open, the door is abruptly stopped halfway, a large hand wrapping around the side. Well. God fucking dammit. Guzma slinks his way around the door, slumping his body against the doorframe as you back away. He is very drunk. “Well if it ain’t our resident princess. What? You thinkin’ you can just go wherever the fuck you want now? That you can just fuckin’ do whatever?”

“I just needed to use the bathroom. The other one… the other one was occupied.” You hold your hands up defensively. He snorts at you, extending an arm across to the other side of the frame, effectively blocking your exit. 

“I think yer full of shit. You think I didn’ hear you clinkin’ around in my shit?”

“Look, okay, sorry. Haha, it was a joke.” 

“And now you got jokes? Well I don't think yer real funny.” He steps toward you.

“Guzma, you’re drunk. Calm down.” He swings, grabbing you by the arm, and slamming you into the wall. You yelp when your head smacks sharply back. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ tell me to calm down!” He’s close enough that you can smell the alcohol on his breath, his pupils are blown and his eyes filled with a hazy anger. “I think yer havin’ a hard time learnin’ the rules around here. How long you think it’s gonna be before you start gettin’ in trouble?”

“Guzma.” His hand moves from your arm and slowly trails to hold your neck firmly. His hand is huge, quite literally encompassing your entire neck. You don’t move and certainly don’t look away from him, steeling your nerves as your body tries to enter fight or flight but it’s too slow, alcohol still in your system too.

“You’re much too cute fer you to be runnin’ around at night. ‘Specially with half these boys round here with somethin’ to drink. Everything ya do is just putting you right in trouble.”

“Guzma, let me go.” You sternly stare at him, his thumb running up the bottom of your chin and pushing you to look up to his face. He’s too close, so close that you feel the heat from his body as he towers over you.

“And what happens if I don’t? What’s a little thing like you gonna do?” 

“Guzma!” Guzma jumps, his grey eyes widening, and looks over in the doorway, your gaze following his. You recognize her, the girl in the doorway. She’s tall, hair down and multi-colored, pink and yellow. Guzma drops you, shuffling back until he hits the sink. 

“Plums, I-” Plumeria. That was it. She’s standing just out of the door, holding a bag over her shoulder, and harshly looking him over.

“The hell were you doin’ to the new girl?”

“Hey! I didn’ do jack shit. She’s the one who was fuckin’-” 

“Fuck, Guz, yer goddamn drunk again. I leave for two weeks and ya can’t even keep yer shit together. Ya smell like a goddamn brewery.” You look from her, to him, and back again. You have to get out of here. Pulling your leg back, you swiftly kick it forward, effectively doubling Guzma over as you knee him in the dick.

“Son of a- You fucking bitch!” You’re already out the door and running to the other side of the floor.

You don’t reply, running into your room and locking the door behind you. You’re gasping for breath, hardly able to process oxygen in your lungs. There’s arguing on the other side of the house, mostly Plumeria as far as you can tell. No one wakes up, all of the girls exactly where you had left them. You make your way to the bed, falling down on top of it. What kind of absolute hell is this place?

You really don’t know what you would have done if Plumeria hadn’t shown up. You would have figured something out, found something in the room and beat him in the fucking face with it. Stupid. So fucking stupid. You’ve never dealt with someone so unruly. Someone who literally didn’t even fucking know how to behave, didn’t know how to control themselves. Or maybe fucking didn’t want to. Next time he comes at you, it doesn’t fucking matter why, you’re punching him in the nose.

Sleep eludes you until the arguing stops, until there’s a grey lit version of the sun coming in the window and you eventually pass out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the holidays are happening. Be safe what with Covid and junk. Just came back negative for it so woo. 
> 
> I didn't realize there was stuff that I wanted to change a little here and there so idk I'll post once every two weeks at most. All of it but a chapter or two is typed out, so it's just going through and reading what I typed two years ago and changing stuff. Also coming up with songs and chapter names because apparently two years ago I named everything after Mother Mother songs whoops.


	5. Caring Is Creepy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember tags.

"Lift the mattress off the floor  
Walk the cramps off  
Go meander in the cold  
Hail to your dark skin  
Hiding the fact you're dead again  
Underneath the power lines seeking shade  
Far above our heads are the icy heights that contain all reason"

 _Caring is Creepy_ by The Shins

By the time you wake up the next day, there are no other girls in your room. You aren’t even sure what time it is, it looks exactly the same as when you finally made it to sleep. Do you even want to go see what time it is? Do you even want to leave this room? What’s even the fucking point?

You're surprised at how much you aren't hungover. Other than a slight headache, and honestly a pretty fierce case of heartburn, you don't feel any of the symptoms you've heard are common for hangovers. Judging by the sounds of the house, a lot of the skull members aren't so lucky. You stay in the room anyway, prepared to use the hangover excuse if anyone decides to come check on you. 

You lay for what feels like hours, stewing in your thoughts, contemplating how the hell you're going to deal with this shit. Your mom is probably worried sick, you normally call at least every couple of days. Guzma probably wouldn't even give a shit if you asked for at least your dex back. Probably just laugh at you, call you a momma's girl. He said you could leave. But you aren't sure if leaving forfeits your pokemon up for grabs. You're not even sure if he even actually kept them.

Last night flashes through your head and you move your hand to your neck. It doesn't feel bruised. You don't think that he had it that tight. Piece of shit. You’re not an idiot. You know what he was alluding to, you know what could have happened. You also know that you would have killed him the moment he went to sleep. Or there were plenty of objects in that bathroom that you could have used as a weapon. As if you didn't already feel incredibly unsafe when you were alone with anyone who wasn't one of your ‘roommates’.

You had forgotten about Plumeria. Not on purpose, she just hadn't really been where your head space was. On one hand, you're incredibly thankful she showed up to stop him. He even seemed genuinely… not fearful, but he was very concerned when she caught him. But then on the other hand, what you wouldn't have given to beat the hell out of him. He was much bigger than you, but you were quick and everybody in this damn house would get a good look at a black eye and a broken nose.

No one has come to check on you yet. There's no way anyone would have known what happened. No one even woke up. At least you really hope they didn’t. If one of your friend’s had, they’d likely be in here to check on you at this point. But hopefully no one else heard. There’s some people that you really just don’t want to know what happened.

You realize how thankful you are for this hangover excuse. They all knew it was your first time drinking. You just feel so listless, like just all of your energy and all of your sense of caring has left. Hiked off and said fuck you. 

A thought hits you. If you stay in this room, if you don't make an obvious effort to at least look okay, he could take that as a victory. Guzma seems to like it when he gets on your nerves, when he makes himself an obvious asshole. No. You're not going to let him win. You're not going to allow him any more victories over you. 

You get the fuck out of the bed.

\-------

You're not training anyone today. Between grunts having aggressive hangovers and you just not being in the mindset for it, you end up sending away anyone who asks any questions. You’ll take care of them tomorrow when hopefully all of you feel better, emotionally, physically, or otherwise. Instead, your day is spent doing chores to keep you and your mind occupied. You help Marshall with some dishes, Cheri and you do a mound of laundry, and you even try your best to straighten some of the rooms downstairs, with the help of "Big Buff" dude Kei. It’s a step in a decent direction, keeping yourself busy, and you honestly just need something to keep your head from thinking too hard about anything, depression trying to creep in something awful.

Kei and yourself, but mostly Kei due to your wrist, are moving a couch to the other side of the room when Ian pops his head in the door.

“Hey Moon, can you come upstairs in a minute?” The two of you drop the couch and Kei scoots it all the way against the wall.

“Yea, I'll be right up.” He probably needs help sorting laundry. Arceus knows none of these people have heard of separating your colors from your darks or whites before. You tell Kei that you suppose the two of you are done and thank him for his help, and then you leave the back rooms to go upstairs and help.  
Ian isn't anywhere to be seen as you're walking up the steps, which isn't very like Ian, but as you turn left to go to the boys room, someone clears their throat behind you.

“New girl.”

You turn around to see Plumeria at the end of the hallway, standing against the wall to her room. “Oh. Hey.” She pushes herself up with her shoulder and motions her head back to her door.

“Come on. We're gonna talk.” You take a second to register but you finally nod and go ahead towards her. She pops her bedroom door open, letting you enter first. You've never been in her room. It is likely the cleanest place in this entire town. The walls are painted nicely, her carpet is without the nasty feel of too many years of dirt, her bed frame is pristine with newer bedding and pokedolls. You're stunned. Plumeria walks over, sitting on her bed and sighing. “Have a seat.” You see a vanity chair and decide to sit there.

“It's nice to actually meet you I guess.” The only time the two of you had ever interacted was when you’d been beating some of the grunts and she'd stepped in. Beyond that, you have no idea what she's like. 

“Yea. You too,” she says calmly. “Listen. I get that you're not really here for fun and games and shits and giggles. Guzma can be an ass and can go too far. That said, I want to apologize for last night.” You're floored. And confused. The fuck is she apologizing for. “He has a tendency to… overreact to things and that includes how he handles situations. Especially when I'm not here to reel his dumbass back in. I just want to let you know that he's normally not like that.” You lock eyes with her blankly. 

“Plumeria. I, uh. No.” Her eyes widen in shock. “Not that I don't appreciate you stepping in last night, I do. But you have no reason to apologize and you certainly shouldn't be apologizing for him. He's a damn adult and can apologize for himself. So thank you kindly for stopping him last night, but I'm going to decline the apology.”

She assesses you for a moment, watching your face and your body language, giving you a look over. You don't move, face confident.

“Fine,” she shrugs. “He won't get like that again.” You nod at her. “You alright, though? I know this place isn't anything you're used to, so if ya really need something, I can get it for you.”

“I...hm.” There's nothing you can think of. You want to talk to your mom, but you doubt that letters would make it home and back. Especially if you had to rely on the grunts to deliver them. You’d love some vegetables, but they likely wouldn't keep here too long. That might be worth it though and you sit on it for a minute. Maybe later. And just like that you remember your medication. It was in your bag. You've had issues taking it in the past, so it hadn't even crossed your mind, really. It’s been an on and off thing for a while now, and although this is probably a time that you’d need it, you don't need something else for Guzma to hold over your head. You lie. “I can't think of anything right now, thanks. I'll think about it though.”

“Yea, suit yourself. You're free to find me anytime. Even if Guzma is being an asshole. I'm not some bitch that's gonna watch a girl suffer.”

“I really appreciate it.”

\-------

Two days pass and you don't have any more run-ins with Guzma. The grunts that you consider your ragtag team of friends grows a little more as each of them get more into the idea of getting stronger. Yesterday, the group of you all took turns battling. You at one point mentioned that you wished they had more of a selection of pokemon and they began talking about going out and getting more. You thought this was a wonderful idea until you realized they meant stealing them and you declined. “If you all steal pokemon, I guess I'm not in a position to stop you, but just know that they won't listen to you as well in battle. It'd be useless and you shouldn't do it.” It seemed to convince them enough and they said they wouldn't steal for the training then. Instead you managed to take a group of them out of the wall into the nearby field. They trained in turns for hours against the wild pokemon and each other. It was a good experience with a lot of smiling faces in the end and you gained this weird sense of pride to be helping these wayward children. 

But today, you're just taking it easy, sitting back and watching them improve on their own. Cheri comes to sit down beside you in the grass, bringing an extra soda and tosses it to you. You mutter a thanks and pop it open. You've never eaten so much junk food in your life. You've thought about convincing some of them to go get some groceries, whether they had to steal them or not. You'd kill for some fruit right now. “Don’t you want to join them?” You ask her. She hasn't really expressed an interest in battling with them past the first day, mostly just chilling around with you. 

“Nah. I'm pretty content with how Ratbaby is.”

“You don't want her to be a Raticate?” She considers this and flips at the tab on her sodacan. 

“I mean if it happens, it happens. But if she's chill with where she is and I'm chill with where she is, there's not a reason to make her change.” 

“That's a very philosophical thing to hear from you.” 

“Pffsh.” She rolls her eyes. 

“Holy shit!!” You look back at the grunts in front of you who are forming a tight circle, all beginning to shout. 

“What's their deal?” Cheri stands up and you follow suit, both of you jogging over towards the group and pushing your way to the front. In the middle of the group is Marshall. He’s hugging a newly evolved Lurantis and absolutely yelling with delight. 

“Look at that!” You shout. “Rose, where's your pokedex?”

“Oh right!” The small pink haired grunt pulls out her stolen pokedex and it begins to read the entry. Marshall is beaming at you and runs to include you in his and Lurantis’ hug. 

“This is great! I didn't think I could do this!” You laugh and hug him back. 

“Of course you could!” You pull out of his arms. “All you all need is some encouragement! I bet you all could do all kinds of things! Good things even!” They're like literal children, they are literal children, smiling with their eyes and staring at the Lurantis in wonder. “But you all still have some improving to do. This definitely puts Marshall and his team in the lead.”

“Oh man!”

“Shit, no!”

“Rhys! Why'd you lose?!” 

“Dude! His fomantis was way stronger!”

They all go off into their own separate battles again and Marshall runs off to get the Lurantis a treat from in the house. You're grinning and Cheri pats you on the back.

“Well would ya look at that.” You grimace and then quickly put the smile back on your face. Guzma is not going to ruin your mood. You’ve not seen him since the other night, since the altercation in the bathroom. But you’re not going to let him know that it bothers you. You rotate to face him as he walks out into the yard, that same cheeky ass grin he always has plastered on his face. “Came down to see what all the hollerin’ was about. Looks like this shit actually works.”

“Of course it works. They just needed a little push.”

“You make it sound like I don’t encourage ‘em any.” You shrug and bite back the words you want to say. You aren't starting a fight with this asshole today. “And here I thought you weren't nothin’ but a pretty face.” You do frown uncomfortably at his words, the other night with his hand around your throat coming to mind, and you can feel your face burning hot but he just continues. “You just keep it up.” He gives you a hard enough pat on the back to shove you forward, turns, and leaves, you're sure back to the house and his nasty room.

Cheri exhales quickly like she'd been holding her breath, and you glance at her. “Does he make you that nervous?” 

“I mean shit yea. He could beat anyone of us down.” She says seriously. You turn back to him and watch him disappear through the door, absently rubbing your wrapped wrist. You silently wonder what he did to get his pokemon so strong. You've not seen him battle once since you've been here, not to mention heard of him yourself until Malie Gardens. Cheri bumps your arm. “Let's keep watching them.”

“Yea,” you reply and turn back around and continue on into the yard.

\-------

The day continues on mildly uneventful. With Marshall’s new pokemon, it's like everyone has been kicked into overdrive. You scold them lightly, informing them that wearing their pokemon down will negate any sort of progress through the day, and by the time the sun starts going down, everyone is winding down. The groups have been dispersing for hours but the last of them are finally going their separate ways. “You comin’ inside?” Cheri asks and you shake your head. 

“No, I think I want to chill out here for a little while.” She stands and pats herself down.

“See ya later then, I’ll save you some dinner.” 

The sky isn’t very clear but it’s still warm for an evening and the rain is thankfully nonexistent today. It’s just a nice evening. It’s the type of night that you would have let all of your pokemon out of their balls and done something fun. You all went swimming in the dark once, with the exception of Cina. He stayed on shore and laughed when Baby tossed Silver in the water. Silver wasn’t too happy about it. You can see the stars through some of the clouds as they pass and you can hear Baby’s chittering laughter. It really was a good day. But those chitters continue. You sit up and glance around but there’s no one else out here on the lawn. Pushing yourself onto your feet takes you a minute but the more you listen, the more you can hear murmuring from near the pool. Unfortunately, you are far too short to look over the bushes. 

Going into the mansion, there are a few grunts downstairs, munching on the dinner that some of them made. It smells good and you know yours is probably upstairs getting cold. No one notices you slip back outside from the pool door and back into the darkening outside. On the far end of the pool you do see a pokemon, a large Golisopod and subsequently you see Guzma sitting next to it. There’s a moment of disappointment in your heart. 

It doesn’t bother you to see all these kids and their pokemon. At least you didn’t think so, you try not to think so, but now you’re beginning to second guess yourself. It's disheartening and you feel angry. The worst part is how fucking chill they seem. He causes all of these fucking problems, but he still thinks that it’s completely okay to just act like there’s nothing wrong. The Golisopod plucks Guzma’s glasses off his face and places them on top of its head and although this is a cute gesture by the pokemon, you're still pissed. You want your Golisopod back. You want your Gengar back. You walk up behind them and you can see the remains of their dinner between them. And words come out of your mouth before you can even process them. “So did you steal this pokemon too?” He turns to face you.

“Oh hey. Ya come to join us this evenin’?”

“No.” 

“Didn’ think so. And nah I didn't steal ‘im. I've had Podsy for ages.” Your mouth quirks at the nickname. “He's the best.” He looks at his golisopod and it nods and chirps in affirmation. 

“Call me surprised, you can actually catch them yourself.” He snorts and you sneer at him. You are genuinely surprised he didn’t steal some of his own pokemon, you'd expect someone who steals them all the damn time to use them against people as well. But you're caught off guard by the amount of jealousy you feel creeping up and you just really want your damn pokemon.

“You gonna keep standin’ there glarin’ at me or are you gonna sit down?” He's not looking at you, staring up at the clouds instead, but his golisopod turns it's head to you. You blink at it, its eyes with crosses that took you a while to get used to with your own. You decide that it's much better company and go to its other side. Guzma throws his head back and laughs. “Ain’t even gonna sit next to me huh?” 

“No. Especially since…” _The other night_ , you start to say. “This Golisopod seems infinitely better than you,” comes out instead.

He snorts. “At least ya ain't afraid of ‘im. Most of the grunts won't even come near ‘im.” You realize he ignored what you said. Or began saying. You look away and don’t mention it.

“There's not a reason to be afraid of him. Golisopods aren't aggressive. If he was like a Beedrill or something, then I suppose you might have been the better option, but it’s a slim chance.”

“A beedrill?”

“Oh yea, you all don't have them here on the islands.” You start to reach for your pokedex and then remember it's not there. You put your arms back down in your lap. “They have like three huge venomous stingers and can be aggressive enough to attack in a swarm. They can be terrifying. Where I used to live had a lot of them in the forest.”

“Yea, I've heard of them. Never had the chance to catch one. Not gonna lie, princess, your old place sounds pretty hardcore.”

“Not anymore than here. You all have those bewears. Those things are scary enough. You would've liked Viridian, probably. The forest was basically just bugs.” There's a silence stretched between you for a minute and you hate how casually you're talking to him. Even so far as telling him that he'd like your home. Fuck, why are you like this with people. 

You're too damn nice for your own good and now you're just fraternizing with this man who fucking kidnapped you and your pokemon like it's no big deal, has been violent with you on multiple occasions. Your hands clench into angry fists in your lap. It's not like the grunts. You don't mind being friendly with them. They're here because they think they have nowhere else to go, an opinion you’re wanting to change. But this asshole made this whole thing. Made this whole organization. And you're just going to fucking chat about the weather. You're so mad at yourself, you don't catch that he's speaking.

“What?” You lean to look past the golisopod.

“I said have ya eat yet?”

“I-uh no. Cheri said she'd save me some.” He gives you a confused look.

“Cheri? That the grunt you always hangin’ out with?” He laughs. “Are you just goin’ around namin’ the grunts?” 

“No, that's her name. They're telling me their actual names.” He keeps laughing and you look away. “Better than just calling them all grunt,” you mutter.

“There ain’t nothin’ wrong with calling them what they are.”

“Except for they're real people. Grunts make them sound like property. For you to throw around the term ‘family’, you sure don't treat them like it.”

This time he leans in front of golisopod, mirroring your glare from earlier. “I treat ‘em plenty like family. I feed ‘em, I house ‘em, I give ‘em somethin’ to do with their lives, I hired ‘em a damn trainer. Sounds like family to me.”

“Correction, you tell them it's okay to steal. Second correction, you're holding a trainer hostage for them.”

“Ya ain't no hostage, yer free to go whenever ya want.”

“Not if I want my pokemon. But look, that's not the point. Point is, you can't use the term family and not treat them with respect. Every time I mention you, it's like they get immediately uncomfortable. Like they're scared of you. Family shouldn't be scared of each other. And they sure as hell shouldn't refer to each other as ‘grunt’.” He shuts up, maybe finally thinking for once. You don't care what he does, but you've started to care about the others at least enough to want them to have a good life. 

You glance at the golisopod and it seems to have dozed so you instead look up at the sky. The clouds are still overcast but there are breaks in them. Enough so that you can see tons of stars and sometimes even the moon. It's the same moon as back home, same one you're named after, but you don't recognize any of the stars or constellations here. You hadn't bothered to learn any. It makes you feel lonely and incredibly homesick. 

The quiet grows increasingly uncomfortable and you manage to make yourself look towards Guzma. He seems… contemplative and you wonder if you said something important enough to be contemplative over. It seems unlike him, but this whole thing just seems surreal. Like a messed up dream. Probably a nightmare. But in the moonlight, his hair seems almost luminescent, much wilder without the glasses keeping the hair out of his face, and you can see how tired he looks when he's not being a smug shit. Even sitting down and slouching over, he's still larger than you and his shoulders are wide enough that possibly two of yourself could span them. His jaw is clenched, his brows are furrowed, and he seems tense, but his entire presence is exhausted. And for the first time since you came here, you start to think about what really happened to him to make him this way.

Guzma catches you looking and gives you that smarmy-ass grin. “See somethin’ you like?”

You roll your eyes. “No.” That stupid smile falters and then another returns, carrying a little less of a haughty attitude. 

“I swear ya fit in here. Ya got more sass than most of my boys. Ya sure ya don't wanna join?” You look at the sky for a moment in mock-consideration.

“Yea I'm going to say no. I would rather not be part of a criminalized group who cut off slowpoke tails and steals pokemon from small children.” His smile fades completely and when you look at him, you frown.

“The hell you hear we cut off slowpoke tails? We don't do none of that shit,” He says in a serious tone and you're speechless, left stammering and trying to answer.

“Uh, I don't remember but it's something people have been saying I guess.” He shakes his head and scoffs at you. “It’s a common occurrence with criminals.”

“One bad thing happens and it's all Team Skulls fault. Pffsh.”

“What do you do with the pokemon you steal?” You ask quietly.

“Sell ‘em.” 

“To who?” You glance over and you catch him looking at you this time.

“No one on the islands. Tourists. Collectors. They sell pretty good. ‘specially the ones you can't find no where else.” You turn away and nod. You're not surprised. You suppose for a market, that this makes sense. The variants that are here are probably worth a fortune in other regions. You'd never seen a Persian like the ones here before. It makes you uncomfortable that you're able to understand it and you suddenly have a severe sense of discomfort from this entire situation. You stand abruptly and wipe your pants off. The golisopod chirrups awake. 

“I'm going to bed,” you state plainly. Guzma examines you quietly as you straighten your clothes.

“If ya can't handle the answers, don't be askin’ questions.”

“Not why I'm leaving but thanks. I think I can take care of myself.” You take a last peek at the golisopod and head back inside without another word from Guzma. Cheri is likely upstairs with you some food and your stomach growls at the concept. You didn't realize how hungry you were. Some of the grunts are starting to settle and some seem to be leaving for the night. They do that sometimes, leave in the middle of the night to terrorize someone, you're sure.

You lay in bed when it gets dark enough, thinking you might sleep. But the more you think about it, the more it bothers you that he didn’t even know their names. The more it bothers you that he hadn’t cared to ask. He isn’t worthy of people this loyal. He isn’t worthy of any of these kids, or adults, or any of them. Despite what Plumeria says, you’re surprised that he isn’t violent with the rest of them too. Cheri said that he picked fights when he was drunk and you did hear him argue with some of the boys. But why are you the one that he got violent with. 

Why you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone should still be safe with covid and such. But I hope you all had a good and happy holidays. I'm hopefully moving somewhat soon. But I should still update.
> 
> Now with a playlist!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6egIBAq5P0492MibG9PiD7?si=2OuRbiWpQPiFolE7SXbK4w


	6. Loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rough emotional stuff. Trauma and unresolved anger.

"Can you please sit the fuck down?  
Protesting in your paper crown  
You love to feel offended  
Fighting from computer trenches  
You got a semi-automatic mouth  
Go easy now  
And you're so loud"

 _Loud_ by Lewis Del Mar

People have always naturally liked you. Part of that is because, as you’ve said before, you are just naturally nice to people. Even though you are thoroughly sarcastic, "kindness and sass" says mom, it’s just always been that way. It’s something that you gained from your father, always a kind man. The time with Team Rocket was horrendous, and even through that he was always so nice to people and lawyers and those who would accuse him of actively helping Team Rocket.

But because of this, within the weeks that you’ve been here, you’ve made many friends. You consider them friends. You aren’t sure what they consider you to be. To some, you’re sure that they think of you as a big sister, the youngest ones maybe closer to a mom. Some probably think you’re just a huge bitch for bossing them sometimes. You never had siblings, just you and the pokemon trainers on their way to the Indigo League. It's a huge difference than a small house just you and mom in.

Your life in this ‘manor’ has a pattern now. Wake up after noon, eat some junk food, go out and see what everyone is doing, training, eat lunch which is _more_ junk food, do a chore cause you have to do _something_ different everyday, training, eat _MORE_ junk food, party sometimes, and then sleep. You do your best to avoid Guzma, it’s been a few weeks since Plumeria had come home and subsequently since he’s last drank. But you still go out of your way to not have to look at him. Multiple thoughts hang in your head about the situation: you don’t want to look at that smug face, you don’t want to see him interact with his pokemon, and you sure as hell don’t want to end up backed into some corner with him again.

You’ve managed to learn a lot in the two months and some that you’ve been here, about the kids, about the team. There are a few that generally stay somewhere near you in case you need help with the house or the people who still give you shit. There are some that you know would be fucking horrible to you if you were to ask for anything. You completely avoid these people at all costs. 

It’s different though. Ever since that night in the bathroom, you haven’t felt safe if your friends weren’t around. You aren’t afraid, you can take care of yourself, but you don’t even have anything to defend yourself at this point. All you have is your close group who can keep others away from you. But you aren’t with them all the time. You try to stay in your room when they aren’t with you, you stay away from anywhere that isn’t an open space, anywhere that there aren’t a lot of people.

You know that you're being paranoid. They likely don't want anything to do with you. Those dirty looks are just that, looks and nothing else. It's hard to shake. 

You were frustrated a lot with the situation and Plumeria was someone that you could confide in. She allowed you to sit in her room with her and let you bitch about Guzma, about not having your pokemon, about dealing with people, about living like this. She would try to interpret to you Guzma’s actions because some of the shit he does or says is total bullshit. Shit like he didn’t think putting up with you was worth the trouble. Plumeria said that he was just mad that he wasn’t able to inspire the team like you were. Or that he thought that your methods were stupid, that you didn’t know what it was like, and other shit. And Plumeria would just defend him saying that he was just saying it because it didn’t work for him and he was just upset. 

You always thanked her for letting you complain. It helped. But the fact she so often defended him when he was upset made you angry, made you sit up at night until you fell asleep with wondering scenarios in your head. And he was upset a lot.

But there were other good things about her. She helped you with the training, offering up her pokemon to help you with demonstrations, to battle with the kids. She even convinced you that it might be good for them to see her and Guzma battle, an event that literally no one missed. You agreed on the premise that maybe if he joined, they’d see that he wasn’t such a hot shot. But in the end, he won. It was a good battle you guess, both down to their last pokemon, her salazzle and his golisopod, both trying desperately not to falter in front of the grunts. But even with all these friends, with all this excitement happening, you resented it.

You weren’t watching like the rest of them, you were looking away down the road at the wall. And you were thinking about your own fight with Plumeria, beating her with your own golisopod. You were thinking about home, your pokemon, about Viridian. You never thought you would miss Viridian so bad. Life was so much simpler there. What you wouldn't give to be sitting under the trees outside the forest, listening to the gentle buzzing of the bugs and Hauntly back when he was a haunter watching over you.

There was shouting from behind you and when you turn around, everyone is clapping and screaming for Guzma. Plumeria is already calling Salazzle back to its ball and she shrugs with a smile on her face. 

You were prepared to ask the group as to why it ended like that when they should have been equally matched, but you were distracted. Are distracted. Still distracted. With all of them, out here, cheering and carrying on and it's like an echo in the back of your head. You feel like, you don’t belong here. And that wall is trapping you, growing smaller and smaller and smaller every day. This isn’t the first time with this thought. But it’s the first time that you felt it this strongly, vision tunneling and your heart thundering in your ears, surrounded by people that you don’t belong with, listening to them cheer for someone who doesn’t deserve it. Doesn’t deserve them. 

Cheri runs up to and shakes your good arm. She’s happy and grinning and cheering. It feels like you're hardly there. Like you're miles away. You offer her a weak smile, not really seeing her there, and look back at the wall. “Hey,” you jump and everything flashes together at once, great snapping back at her. “Moon, you alright?”

“I, yeah sorry,” You smile at her, trying not to seem too fake. “So, I see he won.”

“Yea! Sis almost got him! But Podsy beat her! It was so cool!” He doesn’t deserve her. You look up at Guzma and watch as they crowd him and Plumeria, asking questions, giving congratulations. And his eyes meet yours, that cocky, stupid grin on his face. But you just stare at him, hoping he can see how much you hate him through your eyes. That he doesn’t deserve them. You’re uncertain if he gets it, but he seems weirded out enough and he looks away from you quickly, going back to his ‘fans’. It’s all you can do to keep a smile for Cheri until you go inside. 

Most of them are still out there, fired up after their bosses’ battle, wanting to get their pokemon that strong, finally feeling like they might be good enough. So yes, this experiment worked, it encouraged them. But also backfired because what did he do but stand there and take it all in, all their praise and laughter with that shit-eating grin on his face. At least Plumeria would have encouraged them if she’d won, maybe rubbed it in Guzma’s face, but ultimately would have been good about it. But all he does is take it. 

You think in the beginning, you would have handled it. You didn’t know them, the kids, the grunts, their pokemon, this house. In the beginning, if he treated them like shit, you would have just shrugged it off. But these are yours now. You have cared for them, and taught them and raised them for nearly two months. You're in so deep. You’re sure if you left, you could convince half of them to leave with you.

You sit on the balcony walkway on the lower roof. The sun is peeking out from the clouds, a pretty day, the kind of day you’d be spending in the ocean, or training out where it’s cooler. And what are you here doing? Sitting on a shitty wood covered roof in the shitty headquarters of a shitty organization. But you’d learned you could keep a good eye on the kids here, a perfect view of the yard and on a good day you could see all the way down the street. They’re laughing, shouting with their pokemon, even Cheri is out there with her ratata. Which would explain why you jumped when someone flops down beside you. 

“Shit, I didn’t mean to sneak up on ya,” and there’s that stupid chuckle. You roll your eyes and turn to look at Guzma and there it is, his smarmy grin. “Ya didn’t seem too happy about me winning.”

“Can you blame me for wanting Plums to win? You know how much I love to see your ass kicked.”

“Ha. Ha. Can’t even be nice cause I won, can you?” 

“Oh I can be nice when I want to be. Look at them, I’m nice to them all the time. And they’ve worked so hard, they deserve it.”

“That’s the truth though. I ain’t never seen those kids work so hard at somethin’. You’re doin’ real good with them.” He sounds sincere enough. Doesn't seem like he's picking a fight. Your brain still tells you otherwise.

“I know I am.” You feel sick.

“Haughty there huh?” But you scoff at him, laugh. A switch flips in your head and you're suddenly mad enough you're shaking. 

“You know what? So what if I am? You think you’re the only one who can be full of themself? At least I deserve it.”

“Woah woah woah, where’s that comin’ from, princess?” 

“Shit, all that praise they gave you, give you, you think you deserve that? You think that having those children _fear_ you has you earning that praise?” You move away from him, standing up and stumbling towards the open window. 

“Woah, shit be careful,” he shoves himself up. “Look I’ve been working on that.”

“But look at all the shit you’ve done! Look at them! Are you aware that you have _literal_ children? Do you even know their names?”

“Would you calm down? What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Nothing is _wrong_ with me! I’m just finally fucking tired of your bullshit! I’m tired of _this_! I want my pokemon and I want to go home!” Your vision is tunneling again.

“Hey woa-”

“Do you know what it’s like to watch people love their pokemon and feel like you abandoned yours? Do you know what it’s like to watch someone who doesn’t deserve all of this?” You turn around, grabbing onto the railing before you launch yourself at his head and you catch a look at your still wrapped hand. “I have needed to go to a _hospital_ for Arceus sake! Because of you and that _little_ gang of assholes! And I have stayed here! To look after these kids who need help! Who fucking _want_ help! Not some mentor that they’re fucking afraid of! Who doesn’t know them! Doesn’t even know where they’re from! Just to get back my fucking family!” You feel like there are beedrill in your hands, in your chest. You’re shaking, when you twist back around to him. “And I have _nothing_ to show for it besides gaining ten pounds of junk food fat and a goddamn broken wrist! So Fuck You, Guzma!” You shove at him with your good hand. “Fuck you and _fuck this place_!” He deflects your hand a second time.

“Moon, calm down! Holy shit, would you be careful!” You charge at him and shove him as hard as you can.

Then it’s almost like you have an out of body experience, like everything slows down. You hear a crack, wooden and broken and loud. You see his face go from anger and annoyance and change slowly into shock, eyes wide. And then it’s like you’re looking at the balcony, watching yourself, and you’re falling from the second story. You can hear screaming from below you and maybe above you. But the moment your feet lose contact with the balcony, time seems to catch up. You’re in your own head, you feel him smack at your fingers, and then you close your eyes and feel nothing.

\--------

“Shit, fucking move!” It’s really dark.

“Moon! Moon!” Hey that’s you. You’re Moon.

“Did he push her?” It feels like you’re swimming. Maybe.

“Give her some fucking space!” You’re just tired. So tired.

"Someone get Plumeria!"

“Get her inside! Move you shits!” You’re moving. That’s too much. It feels wrong. You feel so sick. You want to throw up.

You want to go to sleep. The voices fade. You’re underwater again. It’s calm, so calm.

\--------

“You were the only one with her! What the hell happened?”

“Plums I don’t- fuckin shit I don't know! She just, she starts screaming at me!”

“Holy fuck, Guzma, so you fucking push her?”

“No! No! I didn't! She was the one pushin’ me!”

“Oh my god. If she wakes up-”

“ _When_ she wakes up, Plums she has to wake up.”

“That story better match up. The fuck are we gonna do if she dies, huh? What then?”

“Plums, please don't talk like that. She can't! Arceus, I can't fucking _kill_ someone! Plums! Plumeria, wait! Shit! I'm sorry! Shit!”

\--------

Viridian Forest has always been a playground for you. The promise was just to stay on the city’s side of the forest, close to the house. The grass was so green and, even though it would prickle through your clothes, it was soft to lay in. The trees were always full of life, many of the bugs knew you. Caterpie and weedle would come to you because you'd carry treats. Even a Pidgeotto came a few times, they made you happy. Sometimes you and your dad’s growlithe would lay for hours in the grass, up on the hill. 

_Moonbeam_ … he’d yell from the house when he came home. And you'd be excited every time. You and growlithe would run down the hill, happy to see him home from a trip. _Moonbeam_ … and you'd run straight in the house, run to his office, and then-

You gasp, eyes wide, heart thundering in your chest and you find yourself most certainly not in your dad's arms. You feel your eyes water and go to lift up your hand and it's… covered in more bandages, a brace. The upper part is covered in bruises and when you lift your other arm, it is also covered in scratches and blue marks. Fuck, your ears ring and your head is pounding. You glance around and faintly recognize Plumeria’s room, pink and still cleaner than any room in the house. You want to lift up your head but even the thought of it is horrible enough to make you want to puke. Everything seems so loud, too loud. It’s like you can hear the lights as well as you see them, the yellow giving off some vibration in your head. You can hear the generators downstairs, can hear people talking in the kitchen below. It’s almost unbearable even when you shut your eyes, you can hear everything, and if you cover your ears your blood is pounding so loudly through your veins that you can’t concentrate.

You hear someone coming long before they’re outside the door, your head thudding with each and every step they take up the stairs and down the hall. It opens without any knocking, but you can’t even turn your head to look, instead you just wait for them to speak. And you regret it immediately. “You’re awake.” You frown at Plumeria’s voice, it sounding grated and pitched and wrong in your head. She sits and every spring in the bed makes a separate squeal. 

“Yea. I guess.” She lifts your arm and checks it over before grabbing the other one.

“Do you remember what happened?” Done with your arms, she instead moves to open your eyes and look at them. Your head flashes back to your dad’s face. 

“I fell. Yea?” You remember the roof. And yelling. You were yelling. And the balcony shouldn’t have been slick. No, it wasn’t slick, it broke. 

“Yea, you did. You're lucky. You landed mostly in a bush.” You wave off her hands, her touching your eyes making your head feel like needles behind them. You're not sure why she's prodding at you anyway. You go sit up, but she grabs your shoulders and pushes you down again. “Don’t. You have a concussion.”

“No shit.” You close your eyes again.

“Well, Guz will be glad to know you aren’t dead.” You want to laugh, but only manage a smile and a grunt.

“Oh yea, I’m sure he’s _real_ happy.”

“He was upset. He wasn’t sure what would happen if we'd managed to kill someone.”

“Makes sense.” The two of you sit in silence, well mostly silence, for a moment before you hear her moving. Something in her hand is rattling.

“Why didn't you tell anyone that you had pills?” Oh just great. They dug through your shit.

“I didn't need something else for him to hold over my head.”

“Moon. I said if you needed anything to tell me. I would’ve got them for you.”

“But you would have told him. I know you tell him everything.” Tears prick at your eyes again but you blink them away.

“Coming down from antidepressants ain't somethin’ you should have tried alone. And not while going through this shit, Moon. This could have been so much worse.” You don't look at her, your eyes struggling to focus out the window.

“I really don't want to talk about it.”

“Okay. I get it. Get some sleep. I’ll bring you food later.” She stands, putting your pill bottle on the nightstand, pausing. “I didn't tell him about your antidepressants when I looked for ‘em.” You're surprised but don't say anything, rolling towards her when she stops at the door. “I’ll keep everyone out, yea?”

“Yea, thanks Plum.”

“Hey. He didn’t do anything to you, yea?”

You pause. Memory flashes in and out of you screaming. You shoved him and lost your footing. “No.” You shut your eyes again, opting to put a pillow over your face as Plumeria closes the door, flicking the light off as she leaves. The light goes away and the pounding is softened by the pillow cloth. It’s much more peaceful, even if you can still hear and feel people through the house. It’s not hard to fall asleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A double post! Ish! I felt bad for not updating during the holidays so I figured I could throw up two chapters back to back. 
> 
> A few reminders: please make sure you're heeding tags going forward. Starting in I think chp8 it'd gonna get a lot worse before getting better. Also Moon's mental illness experience is based pretty closely off of my own. A lot of people are aware of Bipolar Disorder. People are much less aware of Type 2 BPD. It's rough and it sucks. 
> 
> Writing is a good outlet. I definitely don't post anywhere near the amount that I write.
> 
> As always, stay safe, follow cdc guidelines. I have family with covid and I'm having to be tested again.
> 
> Now with a playlist!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6egIBAq5P0492MibG9PiD7?si=2OuRbiWpQPiFolE7SXbK4w


	7. Satin in a Coffin

"You were laying on the carpet  
Like you're satin in a coffin.  
You said, "Do you believe what you're sayin'?"  
Yeah right now, but not that often.  
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?  
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?  
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?  
God I sure hope you are dead."

 _Satin in a Coffin_ by Modest Mouse

You hardly leave that bed for the next two days. With what is apparently a beautifully twisted ankle and your continuing headache from hell, Plumeria and Cheri have you near completely bedridden. You refuse most people wanting to see you. For multiple reasons. Sometimes because you know that they’re likely too obnoxious to be around right now. Sometimes because you’ve started your meds again and you tend to be emotionally volatile for the first bit.

Mostly though, you know that they heard you. Heard the things you said about them and their pokemon and even Guzma. You absolutely hate it. How could you show your face to them? After what you called them, what you said about their boss.

Eventually your ankle is walkable and slowly your headache fades away. You’re staying back in your room with Cheri and the girls. They check on you a lot, even though you’re doing things on your own. None of them ask about what happened, none of them seem to know about the pills. 

No one asks about what you said. You realize that since you've been here, even the people who were sometimes at each other's throats really stuck out for each other when it came down to it. And now you're on the receiving end of that. It’s a comfort that your health is more important to them than the shit that poured out when you were upset. And, thankfully, nobody says anything about Guzma.

You don’t hear anything from him or about him either, beyond the fact that he is either staying in his room or he’s already left the house since you’ve been awake. You aren’t entirely certain how you feel. In a way you want to storm in there, guns blazing, and demand that he give you your pokemon so you can finally go home. And another, much smaller, part of yourself wants you to apologize for what you said to him. 

Laying in bed with nothing but your thoughts and sleep, well, it's made you focus a little differently. All of these kids have a reason they’re here. Whether it's parents or anger or abuse or anything. And he takes them in, gives them a home. Why these kids specifically? There are very few who are malicious just to be mean. That has to mean something. So what happened to _him_ to make him take them in? You’d had the thought before, yea. But you were so upset and depressed and angry at him that you didn’t go beyond that initial question. 

It’s dark when you wake up. Outside, the rain is falling gently, a quiet but steady pattering against the air conditioner in the window. You close your eyes again, trying to go back to sleep to the noise, but you can’t succeed. Huffing, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand up, slipping on your pajama pants. One of the boys found you a crutch the other day and you pick it up, placing it under your arm. If you’re going to be stuck awake, you might as well get yourself a snack. 

Stairs are much easier to go down than they are up, you can go two feet to a step, a slow tactic but an easy one. As you go into the downstairs hall, you see a light on in the kitchen. It’s not really something that you expect at this time of morning, normally they’re all passed out by now, alcohol doing them in or just sleep in general. But you suppose that someone might also be having a difficult time sleeping as well.

You swing the door open, immediately hearing something fall to the floor and a gasp. “Holy fuckin' shit!” Guzma shouts as the microwave plate clatters, some unfrozen burrito tumbling onto the floor. He grabs it, hot potatoing it in his hands, and tossing it back onto a paper towel on the counter. Swinging around, he stares wide-eyed at you, tank top with a little grease stain and sweatpants sluggishly down his hips. He nearly immediately calms down. “Oh. It’s. I didn’t hear you.”

“Yea, I realize that. Um. Sorry.” You stand the crutch up by the table, then shuffle past him to the fridge and pull out a tiny pizza. Your goal now to eat and get out of here as quickly as possible. It's not like you can take your food upstairs with the crutch. He seems to visibly feel uncomfortable and he moves out of your way to go sit at the table. You start your pizza in the microwave and lean over to watch it. 

“You can sit down, princess. I’m not going to bite.” You probably should, it would be the polite thing to do and your ankle will thank you later. You exhale and limp over to the table, sitting across from him. The air is tense enough you could cut it. “So. How is uh-”

“Look. I’m sorry for… what I-” You start.

“No-”

“What I said. I just-”

“Hey no look-”

“I didn’t, I just-”

“Hey it’s okay, I’m the one who should be fuckin’ apologizin-”

“I just, I genuinely meant all of it,” you finish. He stops and looks at you blankly, clearly surprised.

“Well uh. Well fuck, okay then.” He shuts up and blinks away, taking a bite of his burrito.

“Guzma look. I meant it. Because I was angry. And stressed.” You can tell by the way he’s not looking at you, and he's angrily eating his burrito, he’s frustrated. “Guzma. Look at me.” He does, mouth full and brows furrowed. “Ugh, okay. Why are you like this?”

He drops the burrito, and it _thunks_ onto the plate, before he holds his hands up in frustration. “Why am I like what?”

“Guzma, why’d you take them in?” His eyes shift to the plate, expression softening.

“The grun- hmm the kids?”

“Yea. What thoughts does a twenty-some year old have to take upwards of 50 kids?” He’s quiet, fingers tapping on the table as he stares down at his plate. Your pizza goes off and you leave it be. “Because you sit there and refer to them as family, refer to them as your ‘boys’, your ‘girls’, and then turn around and you don’t know anything about th-”

“For fuck’s sake! Are you a damn broken record? I do know about them, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I know more about them than some little girl from some _fancy ass league town_ could. Cause I’ve lived their lives. Lived with shitty parents, and shitty people and shitty circumstances! Got _my_ ass beat by _my_ pa every damn day! And mom didn’t do shit!” You stare at him, unsure of what to say. “You see, here’s the thing, princess. All of this shit goes down all over these islands, all over the mainlands, and ya know, some get lucky. They go off, get to be successful trainers, they get to leave their parents behind, leave all their shit. And then there’s us. We don’t get lucky, ain’t any good at battling long term, ain’t smart enough to pass them fancy tests or study science. And I’m the only fucking one willing to do anything about it. So here we are. I take all of these kids in, princess, because they don’t have anywhere to go. Ya don’t think it’s funny that none of their parents don’t come after them? They don’t _care_. Nobody _really_ cares!” He stands up and crosses over to the microwave, popping your pizza on a plate and returns just to drop it in front of you, slumping back into his seat. You take a deep breath and think of your words carefully.

“Guzma, I’m not going to say sorry. Because what you have might be good intentions. But look at what you’ve done. Yes, you’ve given them a home, but you’ve taught them some horrible shit.”

“Well ain’t nobody was goin’ to help us. It’s all I can do to get that officer Nanu to not give us shit.” You sigh, picking at your pizza.

“I’m going to train them. And then I’m getting them out of here. You’re free to come if you want, but that’s what I’m doing. And then I want my pokemon back.” He finishes his burrito and meets your eyes, bites his lips, nods, and stands up. 

“Fine.” He leaves his plate at the table. 

“Guzma, you don’t have to be like that. You’re going to burn yourself out if you think of yourself as a hero all the time.” He pauses, but walks on through the door. You finish your pizza, throw your plate in the sink, and make your way back up to your room.

\--------

A few days later in the afternoon, you’re back outside, training them the best you can with limited mobility and a now certainly messed up wrist. After you made your intentions known to Guzma, you’re determined. This is no longer about just your pokemon, you’re going to save these kids from this. You’re going to get them out of here, get them jobs, get them a better life. You can’t count the amount of pokemon they’ve evolved at this point, the kids have done so good on their own. There are a select few that you’ve already spoken with, about leaving when you do, you know you can't take them all. But Cheri, Marshall, Ian, a couple of others, they’re willing to give it a try. They want help. 

Every so often, you catch some of them looking up at the house, and when you glance yourself, you see Guzma watching again. The same spot as the day you fell. But now, he seems contemplative again, an odd expression on his face that you’re not sure you’ve seen since the night at the pool. You turn back and don’t look at him again. This is about them. Not about him. You’ll give him some credit, now that you know he had good intentions. But the road to hell is paved with them. Something you know first hand. Your dad an unfortunate example.

It's not an excuse. You should have guessed that he'd been through some pretty bad shit, what with the rest of Team Skull going through what they had. But you didn't. And it's not an excuse anyway. It's a small line between being the victim and being the problem in this situation. Which is why you'll gladly offer Guzma a place wherever you all go. But he has some growing to do too. Everyone does.

With the groups really getting the hang of everything, you have mostly just started to hang back, only going to them individually if they have questions or want critique. Some have begun battling trainers outside of the walls, coming home with things they’ve bought with their award money. So proud of themselves and so ready to show it to their friends, rewarding their pokemon with expensive treats, buying themselves expensive clothes. They’ve become so excited for themselves, grown in their self esteem, and you know that they will continue to do so, now that you’ve inspired this in them. 

You’ve already started thinking of jobs for them. Cheri would be a good nurse for pokemon, if she would study some. She cares a lot, willing to cheer for her pokemon but able to see their limits and not wanting to push them. She’s the first to care for them here. And Lea, she said she’s from Hoenn. She would be a great personal trainer for humans and pokemon, have one of those famous fitness gyms. And Ian, Ian makes great pokemon treats. You catch him sometimes, early in the morning when no one is awake, baking in the kitchen. They’re all so talented at what they do and what they’re passionate about. It’s a total waste to see them here, stealing and whatever else.

“Moon?” Cheri asks while you’re watching some of them work out with their pokemon, stretching and laughing. You glance over at her in acknowledgment and then back to them. “If Boss gives you your pokemon back, you’ll leave right?” You inhale sharply.

“No. I won’t leave until you're ready. Maybe for a day or two, set up a place for us to stay, see if we can get you a job. But I won’t abandon you all. I’ll get us going somewhere, you’ll see.” She gently grabs your arm.

“I hope so. I’d like to live somewhere with less rain,” she laughs and it’s infectious. 

“I. Am. _So._ Tired. of this rain.” You complain, covering your face. “I’d never seen so much until I was here. In Po Town, I mean. We’ll live somewhere sunny. And warm. It’ll be nice.” She nods. 

“And you’ll stay with us?”

“The whole time.” The rain is slower this afternoon, but it looks like it’s going to get worse. The bone in your ankle is starting to act up, you’ve probably been on it too long today. “Cheri, I really think that I should go sit down.”

“Ah shit, girl, yea. Come on let’s get you in the house. Might grab some umbrellas while ya girl’s in there.” She helps you hobble into the house, but you ask her to just leave you downstairs. You can watch from the windows as long as the storm doesn’t get too bad. She gets you set up with a chair and something to drink and leaves you where you are. 

It’s a good feeling. With the door open and the broken windows upstairs, it makes a good breeze through the house. You’ve gotten used to the permanent humid, ocean smell. It has mildewed the carpet in places, and the walls probably aren’t great, but it’s honestly become rather endearing. You hardly notice the smell or the air's damp feeling against your skin anymore. Then again, you aren’t certain if you remember what a clean house smells like at all. 

You tap your water bottle on your propped up knee and close your eyes. You could be sitting in your Incineroar’s lap if he was here, keeping you warm, both of you dozing. And Gengar would help with the nightmares you’d been having. You’ll have them back soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really short chapter. It always has been. It just didn't seem to fit anything else before we reach the shitty bit. 
> 
> That said, next chapter is where the Explicit warning comes in and also some very rough stuff. 
> 
> I need to get on my computer and tag the last two chapters. Just haven't got around to doing it. My computer is hard to start up. And my phone doesn't allow me to tag my fics properly. On top of that I've started a new job at a bookstore.
> 
> Anyway, as always, be safe.
> 
> Feed me comments!
> 
> Now with a playlist!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6egIBAq5P0492MibG9PiD7?si=2OuRbiWpQPiFolE7SXbK4w


	8. Bright Mouths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is finally it. Please be aware of the tags.
> 
> I don't want anyone to go into this and end up like hurting themselves. I'll repeat in case anyone didn't pay attention: the rape tag isn't because of Guzma. So put that out of your head. I'll probably post the next chapter somewhat soon because ending on this kinda sucks.
> 
> It is possible to skip this chapter and still be completely fine.

"I see you in my head at night  
Your eyes are vacant  
And your mouth is bright  
And all you say are things that I don't want to hear  
So I smash my hands against my broken ears  
We are the thoughts that you were warned about  
We are the shadows in your basement  
When you say doomsday we say everything's alright  
But it's all the same"

 _Bright Mouths_ by Electric President

The air is chilly but you don't remember leaving the window open. You blink awake. Oh yeah, you weren't in bed. You fell asleep watching the team. And the chair you had been sitting has changed into the couch against the stairs, a blanket placed over you. It’s incredibly dark outside, the rain drumming down hard against the windows and lightning cascading in streaks. It had looked like it would rain for a while but you weren’t expecting anything like this. 

You start to wonder why no one woke you up, but the more you struggle awake, the more you do faintly remember Cheri trying to get you up enough to go up the stairs. Lea could have carried you up probably. She must be gone somewhere. 

You sit up, picking the blanket up to smell it before pushing it off. At least someone used a clean blanket to cover you, Cheri being your best guess. You glance around the couch and you can't see your crutch beside you. Actually, you don’t see it at all. “Oh isn’t that just nice.” You do your best to stand up, grabbing the edge of the couch and steadying yourself.

Even standing, you can’t see it in the foyer, so you suppose you’ll just crawl up the steps. It's not the first time, you leave your crutch upstairs sometimes and it’s easier to just crawl up than for Cheri to attempt to carry you. She’s bigger than you for sure, but she isn’t big enough to get you up the stairs, not like Lea. And you wouldn't trust the banister to hold any weight anyway. And it doesn’t seem like anyone’s awake to make fun of you for it. A tiny win.

You don’t know if it’s because of the moldy floors or if it's because you probably slept with your mouth open, but you suppose that getting something to drink _before_ you went upstairs might be the best idea. You limp your way into the kitchen, the door swinging wide and you’re surprised that it’s cleaner today. Someone must have gotten bored. Even pushing down on the garbage can button reveals that it’s empty. 

Amazing. 

You grab yourself a grocery bag, putting a soda and some water bottles in it to carry them upstairs. A door out in the hall opens and closes, startling you for a second but when you look at the clock, you realize that some of the grunts must just now be getting home. It's odd though. You can't help the sensation of being watched. But you're the only one in here. You ignore it and continue digging.

Looking through the fridge a little faster, you grab some string cheese and a couple of ham slices, eating those and then putting a few more in a baggy to take upstairs with you. You guess you missed dinner, damn you must have been tired. The rain could have done it, but you also spent the majority of your time outside today, which is something that you haven’t done in a since your fall. It probably took a lot of energy out of you. Tomorrow you’ll make sure to take it easy.

You hear more chattering outside and what you think is another door shutting. Looking at the clock again, you surely don’t think people would be waking up at this hour. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time that _you_ had so it’s untelling. They might be, you think and try to quell that uncomfortable feeling in your chest.

Finishing up your pilfering, you wash your hands and throw away the paper towel. You momentarily think about grabbing the broom to at least have something to help you up the stairs, but you leave it and turn the light off as you step into the hallway. You’re looking at your feet, making sure that there isn’t anything for you to trip over, that you miss that there’s someone in front of you at all. You jump, startled. Even though you knew that there were people running around, you didn’t exactly expect them to be right here up in your space.

“Oh shit!” You reflexively place a hand against your chest and use the other to steady yourself with their arm. “Sorry, you just-” You freeze. Their hand is wrapping around your outstretched forearm and you look up to the taller boy with those green streaks in his hair. “Hey!” You're grabbed from behind, being put in a headlock and your mouth and chin are covered just as you open them to scream. 

Jace grabs your legs as you kick them forward. You make impact several times, tears welling up in your eyes as your twisted ankle makes contact with his chest, but he swiftly has them both tucked under his arm. You're carried into the back room, struggling as much as you can in their hold before you're dropped unceremoniously onto the floor, out of breath with Jace and Hale towering above. You scoot back, quick as you can but your back meets with something solid, a couch, another set of hands wrapping around you. One hand on your mouth and the other around your neck, constricting your airway.

“Don’t scream.” Shutting your eyes tight, you pray this is a dream. The hand on your mouth leaves, pushing up into your hair and pulling your head back with a fake gentleness. You can smell the alcohol as he breathes in your face. You don't have to open your eyes to know who it is, reaching for the leader of the other two by the arm around your neck. Jeriah shoves you forwards, pain coursing through your neck and your poor wrist you catch yourself with, coughing and gasping for breath. “Where's your royal court, _princess_? That's what Boss calls you right? Haven't you heard you shouldn't wander alone at night?” You hear fingers snapping and then Jace is leaving and Hale is tugging on your upper arm until you're upright on your knees again, facing Jeriah this time. His eyes are dark, nearly black, but sharp even through what he's drunk. 

“And haven't you heard,” you ground out. “That you shouldn't pick on people smaller than you?” His hand lashes out, gripping your neck tighter and pulling you towards him. You try to grab his arm again, but only manage one hand, the other he traps with his. You open your mouth to scream as he squeezes your twisted wrist, you can't with him blocking your throat.

“Now where would the fun in that be?” There are footsteps behind you and both your wrists are grabbed and yanked behind your back, firmly held in place, no regard for your pain. “Now then _princess_ , we’re gonna play a game. Not so much a game for you, but I'd like to think of it as one for us. A little starlet told me that you turned down our big ol’ boss for a good time.” Fuck no. What? What is he talking about? Oh. Oh no. No one knew. You're dreaming. It's been nearly two months since the bathroom incident, and even then, no one was nearby. That's not what that was at all. But from far away….. Is that what that looked like?

You shut your eyes to block him out, to try and think for a moment. Until the absolute shit gets smacked out of you. You gasp while you're able to suck in air, your face burning hot and tingling where he hit you, before he squeezes your throat again. “Ooo, I suggest you look at whoever's talkin' to you. Now then. Do you _know_ how many of the girls in this house would have _absolutely_ jumped that dick? Or hell, even the boys. Do you? Of course you don't.” He finally releases your neck so you can breathe normally again and you catch a glimpse of the scars on his hand from your teeth. He starts running his hands across your tear-wet cheeks. When did you start crying? 

“Boss isn't interested in any of them, you know. But you. He seems to have a big interest in you. So much so he's goin’ soft. He hasn't sent us out to wreck shit in weeks. Hasn't let us do much of nothin'.” That's not true. It's just because of the training. He wants them to train, he wants them to get out. He agreed.

“So here's the game me and the boys are gonna play. We're gonna see which one of us can mess you up the most.” He crawls his fingers around your throat again, face coming within inches of your face. “We're gonna see which one of us can just make an absolute slut out of you. And then, we’ll present you to him. All sweet and sloppy and beggin' for it. So maybe, once the boss is able to get off a couple of times, we’ll go back to normal.”

He presses his face against yours, cheek to cheek, mouth right by your ear. “You never know what all a man will do to get a woman until he finds one he _really_ wants his dick in.” He licks at your ear and pulls back. You spit in his face. 

His hand flies at you again, backhanding you before he shoves you over by your throat. You cough so hard you nearly throw up where you lay on the floor, face turned away from them. A foot is placed under your stomach, lifting to turn you over to look at the ceiling and Jeriah and Hale come into view. Hale’s foot shoves you again before you can lift yourself, back onto your stomach where one of them kneels down. He straddles your hips and pulls your good arm at a painful angle behind your back, another hand creeping up the back of your shirt. You tightly shut your eyes as you feel hot breath against your ear again. “I really like when they play hard to get. But boss might not like it if we break you even more,” Jeriah taunts. 

“Screw you.” He licks the tears off your face.

“Oh? Well I guess that's an invitation.” You can feel him grin against your cheek before standing, the weight of him thankfully off your back. “Hale, you can go first, big guy. I think I wanna watch.” 

You’re afraid. You're terrified. You're injured, out of breath, held down, there's nothing you can do, and you're actually afraid. Your breathing picks up as you feel another body lower onto you, Hale following Jeriah’s orders, you want to cry.

Hands move down your back, exploring up your shirt, rubbing beneath your bra. You don't move. The less you move, the less it'll hurt, the less they'll expect anything out of you. A hand presses on your back, holding you against the floor. The other is abruptly on your ass, squeezing and rubbing you through your shorts. You just squeeze your eyes shut, nails biting into your hands as you grip them into fists, and grit your teeth. 

“Mm you know what. That isn't a very good angle.” Hale stops what he’s doing as Jeriah speaks, moving himself off of you. You're lifted easily from the ground by the back of your shirt and dropped with your legs folded on either side of you. Jeriah seats himself back on the couch as Hale takes up the space against your back, pulling your arms behind you again and wrapping them folded together with what feels like cloth. “Oh this is better.” Jeriah holds your chin, fingers dancing around your neck and down your sternum. 

With Hale holding your arms, you can't shake him off, you can't even move. Jeriah’s hand continues down slowly, trailing over your collarbones, the dip in your neck, and then he makes his way to your breast. “You know, I was always attracted to girls with bigger tits. But any set will do, really.” He grabs the right one, easily cupped in his hand, and he squeezes roughly. You yelp in pain as he twists his hand, pinching to find the nipple beneath your bra. Tears come to your eyes again and you stare at the ceiling to look at anything but him. 

“Here, what if we do this?” Hale finally speaks from behind you, chest rumbling against your back as if you needed a reminder he was there. He lets go of your arms and grabs at the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head and back, leaving your arms trapped in the tank straps.

“Oh good.” Jeriah’s hands return, diving beneath the cups of your bra and holding them each bare in his hands. His thumbs run over your nipples, rubbing them until they're standing firm and then pulling your breasts up to pour over the top of your bra. A hand circles around the back of your neck, pulling forward until you're being forced to look at him again. He smacks your breast hard. You wince, trying to look back to the ceiling but he holds your chin firmly in place. “That's a good look on you.” The nipple resting between his fingers is pinched painfully again and you can't help but sob. Jeriah groans in return.

You're pressed further against Hale as Jeriah makes his way into the floor in front of you, hand hovering around your neck again, already so bruised, so you have to look at him, so you can't pretend you're somewhere else. “If you keep making noises like that, Hale might not even get a chance at you.” Large hands pull at your hips, pulling against Hale’s body and you can feel his erection against your lower back, free and hard, and you try not to think about the wetness you feel there. Your breath quickens as Hale ruts against your back. You start to panic.

Jeriah’s hand that isn't keeping you still explores your skin, across your collarbones, your stomach, fingers featherlight. You can feel yourself shaking, the feel of him gently tracing lines down your body making you shiver. You don't want this. It's just a dream, it's just a dream, you tell yourself. Anything to make it go away. 

His hand stops at the waistband of your shorts, a finger pulling just below at your underwear, and you break against him. “Jeriah don't, don't. Please don't. I won't say anything. Jeriah please,” you babble at him, you can't control the words out of your mouth, eyes closed and sobbing. The hand around your neck squeezes slightly and you stop with a stuttering gasp.

“Well damn.. I didn't know your mouth could beg like that.” His face leans into yours, kissing at your eyes and cheeks. “I'm gonna remember that for a long time.” His hand starts below your waist band and you tense up between them. You don't want this. You sob as he cups your heat in his bare hand. You’d never cared about the whole virginity being important thing, but this isn't how you wanted this to go. You don't want this.

“Oh you're already wet,” he purrs against your ear. “That must mean you like this huh? So honest.” No. No no no. A finger dips between your lips and you bite the inside of your mouth to hold in any sound you might make. The finger runs up and down, mapping out your body and coming to rest on your clit. It moves in lazy circles as you shiver, trying hard not to think about how it feels. “You're so sensitive here. What about inside, hm?”

“Jeriah, please don't.” You're crying, tears beginning to stream down your face and his hand moves again. His fingers circle your entrance and you sob, nothing you can do but lean your head against his shoulder and cry. He grins against your hair and presses in. Gasping at the sensation, your body stiffens, shudders, his finger running in slow motions inside of you.

“That's not so bad right? And if you behave, it'll only get better.” He goes faster, thrusting his finger in and out, shoving in as deep as he can go before aggressively rubbing his fingertips against your walls. You can't help but moan against him, crying out when he hits things inside of you that feel good, having never been touched like this before, nothing so deep. You don't want this to feel good. You'd rather it be painful. “Damn, you make good noises. You're so damn sensitive too. Is this the first time someone's been inside you? That's so sweet. Or maybe, you're just that big of a slut.” He openly mocks you and there's nothing you can do but shake against him. Hale has started pressing his body against you, thrusting himself against your ass steadily, bringing a hand up to grip your breast. “You know what? You've been good so far. I think I'm going to give you a present.”

He pulls his finger out of you and you shudder a sigh in relief, gasping in air as your senses are given seconds to calm down. But he only leaves you for a moment, shoving your shorts down enough to push back into your body with two fingers that vigorously start moving against your walls. You scream before Hale’s hand covers your mouth, his other hand holding your hip to keep you still as they assault you. The coil in your gut tightens aggressively, overwhelming and almost painful. Jeriah pushes you back against Hale, staring you in the face as he fucks you with his hand, the feeling far too much for you to handle. He thrusts his fingers into you so hard that you're jolted backwards, sobbing loudly as he destroys you. It feels too good and you hate it. The heat in your stomach building so quickly and there's not a thing you can do. You don't want this. 

You’re so far gone that you hardly even hear the loud banging from upstairs, shouting and the sounds of stomping. Jeriah slows to a stop and you attempt to pull in oxygen from behind Hale’s hand. “Where the fuck is Jace?"

“He was watching the door.”

“I know that, you idiot." The shouting grows louder but you can't make out the words. "That goddamn traitor.” You can't concentrate, body rattling as Jeriah removes his fingers, grabbing your throat and face roughly in his hands, smearing your own juices against your skin. “You come after us and I'll personally make sure you become part of the ocean.” He shoves you to the floor and you're, for a moment, relieved. It's over. You're sobbing uncontrollably but it's over.

The lights turn out and you hear the pool door shut as they make their escape. Footsteps thud down the stairs. You can't even call out to them. Your neck hurts from it’s abuse and you're light headed. All you can manage is turning your face to the floor and cry, you can't even breathe.

The door slams open, bringing in light from the hallway. “Moon?” It’s not over. Of course it's not over. Now people are going to see you like this. You sob harder. “Go get help! Holy fucking shit. Moon, it's okay. I'm here.” You hear Cheri more than you can see her. She hovers over you for a moment and then your arms are free, clothes being fixed before you're covered by a blanket, wrapping you tightly and sitting you upright. She waits with you on the floor and holds you against her as you sob. 

\--------

It's been hours. You sit in Plumeria’s room, nestled between her and Cheri as they try to keep you calm. After Cheri found you, Kei ran to wake up Plumeria and Guzma, the latter of which tore through the house to find Hale and Jeriah after carrying you up to Plumeria’s room. You didn't want to go. You wanted to be left alone, you wanted to pretend it didn't happen. The look on his face when he saw you is burned into your mind. That look of pity when you struggled against them to get you upstairs. But you're too exhausted to be angry. 

Jace had felt guilty, suddenly growing a conscience and running to wake Cheri, and he has done nothing but sit in the hallway under Kei’s watch and apologize profusely. He wasn't aware of what they were going to do, he said. Guzma nearly knocked his head off, but he swears he just thought they were going to rough you up. Hale and Jeriah haven't been seen since, likely leaving Po Town altogether. 

Guzma eventually comes back in the late morning, soaking wet and empty handed. He decides you're staying with Plumeria, even when you refuse to let go of Cheri. You want to protest, you just wish they'd leave you be, let you go to your room, but Cheri doesn't let you. She feels responsible for leaving you down there, you know she does. But it's not her fault. 

You agree to sleep in Plumeria’s room to make her feel better.

Guzma’s golisopod stands sentinel outside the door. It does make you feel infinitely safer, even if you wish it was Hauntly instead, or even your own. You know Podsy won't let anything in. And even then, they'd have to get through Guzma who is taking guard downstairs in case they try to sneak back in.

You're nestled between Plumeria and Cheri, arms wrapped around Cheri like you're clinging for life. You cry yourself to sleep, both your friend and Plumeria rubbing your back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6egIBAq5P0492MibG9PiD7?si=RcJrDdm5S1m9LIhQXypEsg&utm_source=copy-link


	9. Bones & Skin

"Don't forget, you've got love  
You've got bravery, you've got trust  
You've got bodies, responsibilities  
There's still mountains, they're pushing up from underneath  
You've got pain, caused plenty of  
It's not so strange but now you've had enough  
Don't forget your bones and skin  
Or where you go, or where you've been."

 _Bones & Skin_ by Mirah

You're in a dark room. You don't know where the walls are, how close they are to you. It's not cold, not hot, there's not even a breeze. The air is stagnant, stale. No one's been here for a long time. Turning around, there is a hallway, narrow and long, and at the end hangs a light bulb, the faint glow flickering weakly. You begin towards it, the floor is hard on your bare feet, and with each step the light seems farther away. Until all at once, you're right in front of it. You’re captivated by it, the light soft and white, only covering a small amount of space. You reach for the string but a pale hand is already there, snapping the light off. You gasp and grab at the string, clicking it back on only to see the room in front of you empty. You turn around. A face, white and sunken in, appears in front of you, frozen in a wail and staring. The floor disappears beneath you and you fall. 

Laying flat on your back, you look over at your hand, the familiar roundness of Hauntly’s pokeball sitting loosely in it. The ground is dirt and you vaguely recognize the gym you're in, the gym in Viridian. “You couldn't save them.” A voice above you says, you turn to look at them. Giovanni stands above you, arms crossed and scowling.

“What?” You ask with no sound from your mouth. 

“You couldn't save him,” he says. Your dad’s face flashes in your mind, sick and dying and so thin, the face you'd seen in the dark room. 

“You couldn't even save yourself,” says Guzma. A hand wraps around your throat, and then your arms, your waist, hands appearing out of the floor, dragging you into the ground and you scream. 

\--------

The room is echoing before your eyes are even open. “Moon! Moon! Wake up!” You’re shaken awake, shouting as Cheri holds you to her. You can’t breathe, lungs struggling to keep up as tears run down your face. “It's okay, here. It's okay.” She lets you go for a moment, slamming the window open to let air in and she comes back to hold you. 

“I-I-I'm gonna be sick,” you manage out, barely able to reach the window frame and lean out, violently retching up nothing as Cheri pats your back. It's raining out and you can't even care that your hair is getting soaked in the downpour, trying to breathe deeply between dry heaving. 

It's been a week since… since that. You've barely talked about it, even to Cheri. You've barely slept, barely eaten. They never found where Hale and Jeriah went, and you're thankful for it. You never want to face them again. You never want to hear of them again. 

Guzma has been ready to tear into Jace at every opportunity. You're the only reason he's still here. At the end of the day, he's the only reason that shit didn't get worse. And you really appreciate him for it. You had to convince Guzma to even let you talk to him, a screaming match that you're certain the whole house heard from his bedroom, but he eventually let you. You hugged Jace, forgave him, and he cried with you. He’d apologized so many times and he still says sorry every chance he gets. 

You've tried to express that you just don't want to talk about it, you just want to pretend that it never was. But for the few who know what happened, it's like every time that they look at you, all they see is a sad and pitiful girl who can't do anything for herself. You’ve never felt more useless in your life. 

The nightmares have been worse since then, something that your medicine used to handle more often than not but anymore it's just completely out of control. You're hardly sleeping at night and half of your dreams end with you getting violently ill first thing in the morning.

You try to go back to training the grunts, anything to keep you occupied, but that stupid voice in your head tells you that they know that there is something wrong. They know something happened. Especially with both of their bosses being on edge and you being jumpier than you've ever been. They don't need to know specifics to know there's something wrong.

Everything scares you, bumps in the night, doors closing too loud, when they're outside and someone screams, when someone touches you. That's the worst one. They could graze your arm or touch your shoulder and you almost jump out of your skin. People have taken to making sure that they call to you before they actually come near you. You've taken to wearing turtlenecks, sleeves being cut off for the heat. Your neck is horribly bruised. Deep blues and purples and reds, some green. You try not to look or touch them much.

Your emotions are a mess. You don't want to be alone but you also don't want people to look at you. You're severely angry but spend most of your time crying. For the first few days, your body hurt, almost like cramping but somehow worse. Your insides were just pain and it made you feel like you somehow, someway deserved this, the nightmares agreeing with you. 

It's like your body is no longer yours, it's a foreign feeling, similar to how you remember falling felt. You're both inside and outside of your body. Or your body is yours but your brain is so far away, trying to leave. Plumeria tells you that you're dissociating but you knew that. And you find the absent state of mind it gives you more comforting than real life does. 

Guzma doesn't seem to stay in the house, you don't see him often. And this time, it isn't because you're avoiding him. It's weird, but you’d almost rather see him now, an odd sense of comfort waving over you in addition to Cheri or Plumeria. You've not talked to anyone about that either. You vaguely remember him carrying you up the stairs that night. He'd been half asleep until he saw you, and you hated it, absolutely hated that he had to see you that way. Especially after the shit they said about him.

It was in the following days that you knew that when he’d cornered you in the bathroom, it was truly because he’d had too much to drink. You finally believed what Plumeria had said. It wasn't even anything sexual. He was just picking a fight. Still not an excuse for him, but it's like things clicked.

But that night he’d picked you up, still wrapped in the blanket Cheri had grabbed from somewhere, and he held you as you fought them to leave you alone, as you cried into him, as he carried you up to Plumeria’s room. He even stayed with you until Plumeria and Cheri had grabbed shit to clean you up. You had fit so well against him. He was warm and his arms cradled you tightly, shushing you, petting your hair down. And then in the middle of the night, he'd come to check on you when you all were in Plums' room. You weren't asleep, but you made pretend as he came in and checked over the three of you. The others didn't wake up.

Another thing to add to the list, you hadn't talked to anyone about it yet either. But you need to. You need to know if what they said was true. The question just exists in your head, taking up too much space to allow for other thoughts or even just some peace. You didn't think Guzma had ‘gone soft’. Just that he was focused on the grunts getting stronger. The two of you had that talk in the kitchen, but even then he was stubborn and didn't agree with you. It's like all the time he was contradicting himself. One day he'd be happy that they were growing as people and the next he'd be angry that you were getting along so well with them, saying you didn't need to be here for them to do this. 

So… what then? If he wasn't keeping you here to train, if your bargain didn't matter, why were you even here?

You just need to know what's going on. Whether he's keeping you here to actually help or if he's only keeping you here to chase tail. It’s not something you could just ask him about. And you didn't even know what you would do once you got your answer. It’s just another thing to be stressed and afraid of. 

Cheri stays with you in the mornings, mostly because the two of you try to sleep when the others in the room are waking up, you won't disturb them that way. She's started sleeping in the same bed as you and you've come to appreciate the feeling of safety it brings you, even if it doesn't help your nightmares.

In the late afternoon and into the evening, she takes you to Plumeria so that she can take care of the kids, taking it upon herself to continue training where you left off. 

Plumeria has only tried to make you talk about what happened once. Otherwise she's let you go at your own pace with coming to terms with it. 

Tonight she's sitting against her headboard, laptop in her lap as she scrolls through newsfeeds, battle videos, and makeup articles. You lay beside her, facing the screen and watching the tutorials with her, half-dozing. You haven't put on makeup in a long time, but it's always been something calming to watch. There's a knock on the door and you jolt awake but quickly calm down as Plumeria puts her hand on your shoulder. The door creaks open, hidden behind her laptop screen and you close your eyes, choosing to ignore whoever it is. 

“Is she asleep?” Guzma’s voice quietly calls into the room. You look up at Plumeria and then shut your eyes tightly, hinting to tell him yes.

“Yea,” she whispers back. “Has been for a bit.” You hear him lean against the frame, a gentle creak as his weight settles. 

“I heard she was having trouble with that. Sleepin'.”

“Yea. Cheri says she's got nightmares. Says she ain't hardly slept, poor thing.” He sighs loudly and a heavy thunk tells you he dropped his head against the door frame. "What about you? How've you slept?" He grunts, noncommittal and seemingly unwilling to talk about it. You don't think he's slept well either.

You've heard rumors through the team. He isn't sleeping, wandering the manor or Po Town. Prowling around, keeping an eye out. You wonder if it's for your sake or if he feels betrayed by the same kids he took in. Or if it's guilt that he somehow made them like that, after what you said about how he's raised them.

“Plums, just um.” He pauses, his clothes rustling. “I'll just put this in her room then.” He heaves a heavy sigh again and the door clicks closed, a few seconds passing before you hear a loud thud in the hallway. You imagine Guzma hitting the wall with his fist. It wouldn't be the first time.

“G’s gone.” Plumeria pats your back and you just nod into the pillow. “Ya doin’ alright tonight?”

"I'm fine," you murmur. "I'm just tired, that's all." 

"Still want company?" She checks. She's always checking. You take a moment, weighing your options. It's a rough decision every time you're asked because as much as you want to be alone, your thoughts are too chaotic to be fine without a distraction. 

"Yea. If that's okay."

"Of course."

You settle back down into the pillow again, Plums clicking away on her laptop just long enough to find another video. You end up turning towards the window and watching the rain beat against the tall walls outside.

\-------

It’s eventually late enough that you walk back to your room with Cheri. She's telling you that she's cleaned your sheets and done some of your all's laundry, but she'd gotten held up with helping out someone with a new pokemon. 

She sold herself short. The bedroom smells a lot better and you think she'd actually done everyone's bedding. When you lay down, it smells wonderful, like calming flowers and rain. It's so much better than the mildew smell that normally permeates the room. Your pillow feels a little lumpier than normal and you sit up to shake it out. But you stop. There's a pokeball sitting underneath, one you'd recognize in a lineup of hundreds. “What is that?” Cheri asks as you pick it up. 

“It’s Hauntly.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. You roll it in your hands and it's as perfectly round as ever, not a scratch or dent. You gently press the release button without a thought, a red light streaming out, and your gengar appears floating at the end of your bed, stretching his chunky limbs long and stiff. He blinks multiple times, eyes darting around the room he doesn't recognize and then falling on you. He seems shocked, staring at your arms and legs and your neck, and then he frowns, floating to you and keeping his corporeal shape as you squeeze him tightly. You could absolutely cry, but you don't want to alarm him more than what he already is, so you hold the tears back. 

The noises he makes at you are pure nonsense to other people, but it's like a second language to you, not one you can speak but can feel. Sometimes he just puts ideas directly into your head if he has too much to say. And you're flooded with both. How he's sorry and he thinks he failed you all those months ago, he wants to know how you're hurt, who hurt you, why you're still here. He wants to scare everyone in the house until they can't think straight anymore, he wants to ruin them. You sit him on the bed with you, holding his clawed hands and shushing him. 

“It's okay, Hauntly. You did your best. You did everything I asked you to. I’m just glad I have you back. You can dig through my head when I sleep okay? Just please don't hurt anyone.” He protests, mouth opening wide and eyes sharpening. “No. Just stay with me. I’ll explain. Just stay with me.” Your head grows fuzzy as he digs for a minute, causing you to feel swimmy and you close your eyes, the feeling overwhelming from how long it's been.

“Moon! Are you okay? What's it doing?” Cheri says to your side, and you hold Hauntly’s hands tighter so he won't move.

“It’s okay. He’s just… finding answers.” It clears and you blink at him. He looks distraught, his face an emotion that you haven't seen on him since your dad died. “I’ll be okay. Just don't leave.” He nods, garbled sounds coming from his mouth. You should at least introduce him. Maybe knowing one of the team will make him feel better. “Hauntly, this is Cheri. She's a close friend. I want you to be good to her, okay?” He bounces from your bed to hers, startling her into backing up to her headboard. “Hauntly, she isn't used to ghosts. Please be nice.” He looks her up and down before extending his hand, something you taught him humans do when he was a haunter. She slowly takes his hand and he smiles, shaking her hand vigorously. His mouth produces more noise.

“What's he saying?”

“He says ‘It's nice to meet you’. And he thanks you for taking care of me.” 

“Yea uh, you're welcome, my dude.” She says quietly. He nods and lets her go, looking around the room.

“You can explore here if you want, just don't go out in the house yet.” He nods again and slowly disappears.

“I-is he in here?” Cheri questions, eyes wide at where he left. 

“Yea, I can feel him. It's just how he does.” You lay down in your bed, placing his pokeball next to the pillow. This is what Guzma must have brought you. You guess maybe he was upset because he couldn't give it to you himself. But he knew. He knew you were struggling bad enough that you needed your pokemon, and he gave him to you. The pokemon you need to sleep, to help regulate your emotions, to take care of these nightmares, to feel _safe_. And you feel like the action of this answers your question, about his guilt, about his own problems. You don't know if you're still just seeking validation and protection or whether you might actually be coming to like Guzma, but he likes you and cares enough to give you back your best friend when you need him most. 

That night, you and Hauntly play in the grass back at home, back in Viridian, as he clears your head of night terrors and eats your bad dreams away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao, y'all might be wonderin' "hey, Del, where the fuck is the rap at?" 
> 
> My Ky bumpkin ass can barely write just a normal story. If anyone wants to submit any raps, I would be glad to go back and include them and give you credit. 
> 
> I've tried. Got em written out in word docs and boy howdy y'all. It's not great.
> 
> Posted the next chapter really early because I honestly hated to leave it like that. This is also a pretty short chapter. I could have probably combined it and the next one, but I liked it as is.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6egIBAq5P0492MibG9PiD7?si=2OuRbiWpQPiFolE7SXbK4w


	10. Landfill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when feelings?

"Throw me in a landfill  
Don't think about the consequences  
Throw me in the dirt pit  
Don't think about the choices that you make  
Throw me in the water  
Don't think about the splash I will create  
Leave me at the altar  
Knowing all the things you just escaped"

 _Landfill_ by Daughter

You've never been so relieved to have a pokemon. A ghost type pokemon wasn't exactly a popular move when you'd brought (or was rather followed by) Hauntly home to Viridian. Your mom considered calling the local officer Jenny to remove him when he'd been disruptive anywhere you'd gone for nearly a month. You managed to convince her that he was fine and that you could handle him, that you were friends and you liked having him around. Turns out that more conventional pokemon aren't the only ones who make good assistance and support partners.

Having Hauntly by your side allows you to sleep again, let's you feel like a real person for the first time since you've been in Po Town. The nightmares aren't as frequent and in the few instances they appear, Hauntly is there and ready to suck them from your brain just like he has since you were twelve and started having problems.

Having a pokemon that you have to keep an eye on also keeps you distracted. You don't have time to dwell on your own thoughts and problems when your pokemon is literally trying to haunt the house. It's become common to see a child standing at the end of the hallway, eyes dead and staring into your soul, or the lights flicker when you enter a room. It's entertaining when everyone moves past the terror and can see what he's doing as a joke.

Cheri warms up quickly, laughing at Hauntly's silly faces he pulls, riding along with his little pranks on people. Some of the team has ghost types, you learn. You didn’t know, they never really used them in their battles at the house but you vaguely remember battling a haunter before. After Hauntly is out for a few days, you see him with a gastly. Turns out it belongs to one of the quieter kids. He approaches you later and admits he didn’t really know how to handle a ghost type. It takes no time for Hauntly to become a gang leader himself. The next day, he’s out with four or five other gastly and haunters and even a sableye.

Eventually, it feels like he was always there. The night in the pokemon center feels like another life. The Moon that was feral, unmedicated, and a mess was a whole other world away. 

Your ankle is healing, you think. It's easier to walk on, only sore when the rain is terrible, and as much as you want to also place the reason on Hauntly, you don't think he's magically developed healing powers. You do learn that he can levitate you though. It's a lifesaver with the stairs. 

But even Hauntly has to sleep.

It's late. Earlier than you planned to head for bed but late enough that the house is quietening down. Hauntly gets cranky when he's tired and fights so he doesn't have to go in the pokeball. You were downstairs speaking to the floating dinnerware in the kitchen with Lea when he finally gave up. You're relieved he let you catch him. No matter how many times you go through this fight with him, it wears you out.

It's still slow going to make it up to your bedroom. Lea even offered to carry you but you turned her down. She helps you enough as it is. It's been a bit since you've had a few minutes to yourself and walking alone sounds fine. You can always shout if you have trouble the rest of the way up.

You've just started up the second half of the stairs when you hear talking, low and quiet from Plumeria's end of the hall.

"-gone on long enough, yea?"

"She's the one that's on this bender to help every-"

"And who started that, G. Who's the one who set her up for that? She's been here, what? Four months? She's got people out there. She doesn't need to stay here."

"So what? Yer gonna run her off cause she has a home?" 

"What? No! You're gonna say that to me? Really? She doesn't need to stay here as in she has people who _care_ about her out there. You have to stop this. If you think she's serious about stayin’ then give her her shit back and let her make the choice."

"Plums, I can't just-"

Your thoughts start stumbling over themselves trying to understand them. You don't want to listen anymore. You make your way up the final bit of stairs and clear your throat. They both snap around to look at you. "Is everything alright?" You ask like you hadn't heard them arguing. As if all three of you don't know that's a lie. Guzma flounders, mouth opening and closing without sound. Plumeria just scoffs and steps forward, purposefully knocking her shoulder into Guzma.

"Everything's fine. I was just leavin’." Now that she's not hidden behind Guzma, you catch sight of her backpack. "G had somethin' he wanted to talk about though."

"I what?" Says Guzma eloquently, brows disappearing under his sunglasses as you glance between them. She gives him a look, eyes fierce and lips drawn in a thin line, and you know that judgmental look of annoyance well enough to know she means it. Means that whatever he's holding back better be taken care of when she comes home. A fleeting thought says you hope she's gone forever.

"Be back in a few days." She sighs and trots down the steps without looking back.

Guzma and yourself stand in the hallway, awkwardly not looking at each other, staring at where Plumeria left you. It's tense. And the air between you both is tight and horribly uncomfortable. You're weighing options on what to say. Having Hauntly means he never got rid of your stuff, Plumeria mentioning it confirms that. So he's had every opportunity to give everything back and hasn't. It makes you angry. This whole time, your things have been within reach. Your pokemon have been hidden right under your nose. And he had no intention to sell them at all. 

_You never know what all a man will do to get a woman until he finds one he really wants his dick in._

Jeriah's words ring in your head and you feel the weight of him holding you against Hale, his face close and breath hitting your cheek. The pressure returns to your chest, throat tight and you think you might throw up again.

"Are you alright?" You feel yourself jump before you can stop it, mind snapping back into your own body. You'd almost forgotten Guzma was there. He's moved forward, standing closer on the other side of the staircase. You pry your white-knuckled fingers away from the handrail you were squeezing. 

"Yea. I'm fine." Your voice is small. Guzma eyes you for a moment and it's clear he knows you're lying, but he thankfully moves on.

"Where's your Gengar?" He asks and you take the opening.

"Asleep." You hold his pokeball up where it's been solid in your bad hand. "He's not allowed to sleep out of his ball. The walls would start bleeding and shit." You’d normally think it was funny when Guzma pales but you don't laugh this time. 

"I uh, didn't think ghosts would sleep."

"Not often. But he needs to eventually." 

"Oh." The thick silence returns. But this time you're both left staring at each other. His eyes are grey, lighter than the storm clouds outside and the bags around his eyes seem to have deepened since you'd last noticed. You don't think he's brushed his hair in a few days, his sunglasses just barely keeping it all pushed back out of his face. 

You sometimes forget how tall he is, more often than not he's standing with a team member rather than yourself and nearly everyone is taller than you so the difference doesn't seem too large. You think you remember him being intimidating at some point in the beginning, before you knew the team, before you knew him. But now he's just a tall, tired man who took on a task too large for him alone. Who wanted to change something and didn't know how. Who under different circumstances, you might've called a friend. What is he to you now?

Why did he keep your pokemon?

"Moon, I think we need-" You can't do this right now. 

You interrupt him with a yawn, too big to be anything but fake, and stretch your arms over your head. "I am so worn out. Had to fight with Hauntly for him to even get in the ball. I'm gonna call it a night." Guzma stands with his mouth open for a moment and you wonder if he'll push the subject. But he shuts his mouth, deflates, and scratches at the paint clearly peeling on his arm.

"Yea. O'course. Me too." He doesn't leave and you realize you're blocking the way to the balcony. You finally move. 

You pause when your hand rests on the handle to your room, turning to see that Guzma hasn't left his spot near the stairs. "Good night, Guzma," you say without thinking. His eyes meet yours.

"Yea. G'night, Moon." You're staring again. You start breathing, when did you even stop, and hurriedly enter your bedroom. 

None of the other girls are in yet, saving you from whatever embarrassing situation this is, and you sigh in relief. You don't move, listening to see if Guzma leaves. 

He doesn't for a long few moments, until you hear a loud groan and a lot of mumbling just quiet enough that you can't make out the words. But you see him in your head. That thing he does when he's frustrated, scratching and pulling at his hair, hurting himself. You're surprised you don't hear him hit a wall. You finally hear a "Fuck!" and then his footsteps head toward the balcony.

You exhale and take a long look at your bed in the corner, realizing you've set yourself up to have to go to sleep. There's no way you'll be able to. Not after whatever that was and certainly not with Hauntly napping. Your brain is firing a mile a minute and all of the distractions you've had set up for the past week are suddenly gone. And now you're stuck alone with every one of your thoughts. 

You should have stayed with Guzma. Being by yourself is worse than whatever Plumeria wanted the two of you to talk about

You cross the room, a short sprint ignoring the ache in your leg, and snap open the window, unsure if you're getting enough air because you're suddenly light headed. It can't be past nine. The sky is dark, the moon isn't visible even with it only partly cloudy and the little drizzle of rain. You wish it was storming. It would at least keep you out of your own head.

_You never know what all a man will do to get a woman until he finds one he really wants his dick in._

You feel yourself panicking again and push past the memories of what happened to focus on now. Closing your eyes, you tap your fingers against the windowsill and breathe deeply, in for four, out for seven, and concentrate on the rain noises until you're calm enough to think. "It was just words, Moon. Just shitty words from horrible people trying to justify what they were doing. It doesn't mean anything." _Unless it does,_ supplies your brain. 

It doesn't _have_ to be in that context. It could just mean he likes you. Not even _like that_. They could have misconstrued it, twisted it up into meaning what they wanted. He at least respects you enough to let you lead the team away from him. He sees the value of what you're doing. Or trying to do.

_Or he could **like you** like you._

Fuck.

Fine. So what? It doesn't actually _mean_ anything. If he likes you, he'll have the decency to let you finish what you're doing. He hasn't hit on you or been inappropriate save for the bathroom incident where he was wasted. You kind of feel more safe with him than with a good portion of the team at this point. 

And what does that mean for you.

Well for one, it's not like he isn't attractive. In fact, Guzma is pretty hot, objectively speaking. What with the height difference and the way his nose slopes and his jaw is set just right. Could use some more sleep and shave regularly. You really like the storm grey of his eyes. But that’s kind of it. His personality is okay. Sometimes. Lately, that’s been most of the time. But he’s a shit. He can be funny and he cares about Team Skull in his own little sarcastic, fucked up way. Which isn’t too different than you. He just doesn’t directly interact with them as much for some reason. Plumeria seems to be the driving force behind keeping everyone chill and together. You wonder what part of the trauma caused him to be a recluse. 

No, that’s off topic. What if you kept your thoughts on track for once?

Okay, you’re pretty similar at the core of things. Which is… fine. Explains why you get along one minute and want to strangle each other the next. So pros: He’s hot, fairly the same in like base personality, pretty easy to talk to when you’re both in a good place, fun to argue with. And the cons are essentially everything else. The leader of what was (is?) a potentially illegal organization (as if they’re organized), a problematic drinker (which has only been an issue when Plumeria isn't home, but who here doesn't need supervision), he kind of kidnapped you and blackmailed you into working for him, and he stole your shit and hasn’t given it back.

What the actual fuck is wrong with you?

All that shit happened, still _is_ happening, and you’re standing here, staring out the window and debating with yourself on whether it’s _okay_ to be attracted to him? No, it’s not okay! That’s fucked up. That’s _really_ fucked up. And since when have you even found him attractive! There’s a name for this. You can’t think of it immediately, you think it starts with an S, but what the fuck.

You’re admitting it though, right? You think he’s attractive. You really think that asshole is cute. He is though. Like when he’s with Podsy and cracking jokes or when he’s chill with the team and he makes massive batches of tapu cocoa for everyone when Plumeria comes home or when he’s half asleep in the mornings or maybe hasn’t slept yet and literally drinks coffee out of the pot like he thinks no is looking. You are so fucked.

You sit down on the edge of the bed and watch the rain pick up a little.

 _You never know what all a man-_ Fuck, just SHUT UP. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter! Nothing matters! What’s done is done, what’s happened has happened, and neither of you can do anything to take it back. You're going to hear that phrase every day in your head for the rest of your life, whether you like him or not. Whether _he_ likes _you_ or not. So what does it even matter?

You'll just... let it go. You can't keep dwelling on it. You'll drive yourself crazy. With that fucked train of thought, you'll drive Hauntly crazy. He already has to hear every bit of this garbage every time he looks in your head. He doesn't need all this shit too. 

The rain is getting louder, fat drops smacking against the awning by the pool and the wall. You sigh and snap the window closed before the water reaches inside. You have to let this go. 

You make a deal with yourself. If something happens, then fine. That's a problem for future-Moon. Or maybe it won't be a problem at all. Because if nothing happens, that's fine too. But sitting here and wallowing about it isn't going to change anything. It's just going to make you sick. So yea okay, you don't know what a guy will do until he wants to be with someone. But you also don't know if that's even why he's done what he's done. You do know that's not how this started.

"Hey Moon!" You nearly jump out of your skin when the door opens, Cheri announcing herself. She's already shutting it with her hip before you turn to face her. "Lea said you didn't eat. Said Hauntly was up to some shit, I dunno. Here, brought you one of Boss's burritos. You're out of pizzas. Just don't tell him, kay?" She winks at you and hands you the plate. You can't stop from smiling at her.

"Look at you goin' behind his back! Proud of you." You say. You start unwrapping your food.

"Sis steals 'em sometimes. She left late enough, he'll just think she did it. He won't say shit to her." She pops a pizza roll in her mouth.

"And here I thought you were growin' a pair." She just shrugs at you. 

"Where's he even at?" You try not to let the crawling sensation start up your back at her question.

"Uh who? Guzma? I think... he went to his room." She stops eating and levels with you for a minute. Fuck, why can everyone tell when something's wrong. She turns back to her food. You don't know if you're glad for it or if you wish people would just fucking say something.

"I meant Hauntly," she says, words too short. Everyone is just giving you outs today but they may as well still be pointing at your problems.

"Asleep. He needed rest. Lea tell you he possessed the kitchen?" She snorts.

"Didn't have to. Ian saw it. Freaked him right the hell out. I said 'it's just some floatin' forks, yo'. He didn't like that. Stomped outside." She eats through three more rolls before stopping. "Speaking of, if there's anythin' you need, best let us know by tomorrow. Storms comin' in."

You've managed half the burrito and sit down what you have left. "Okay? Y'all are out in storms all the time. Is it a bad one?"

"Yea. It doesn't hit the rest of the island, but we won't be able to come in or out for a few days. Might as well be typhoon weather."

"Gross." Cheri doesn't respond, finishing her food and sitting the plate on the floor.

"You alright?" She finally asks. "I mean like," she goes to correct herself. "With Hauntly sleepin'and all. Are you gonna sleep okay tonight?" That's not what she meant. You know it's not. You open your mouth, thinking about continuing the lie but stop.

"I don't know. I uh." You place your plate on top of hers, losing your appetite and unable to eat the rest. "I have a lot on my mind. I heard…" You pause and sigh, working yourself up to talk about it. "I heard Plumeria and Guzma talking when I came upstairs. About me, I mean."

"Oh." She switches beds, standing from hers and coming to sit beside you in yours. "Bad, huh?" You exhale again and a distant part of your brain wonders how many times you can fucking sigh in one minute.

"You know I really, actually, _genuinely_ want to help you right? I want to help everyone."

"Yea, o'course. You're the fuckin' bomb. You've done a lot."

"I think Guzma still has my stuff. Like all of it. He hasn't… sold my junk or my pokemon or anything. He's just kept it." You keep going, everything tumbling out like word vomit. "And you know, I get it. As fucked as that is, I get that in the beginning it was to make sure that I kept up with you all and didn't run off. It was to control me. But it's different now. If I was going to leave, I would have. I even fell from the house and stayed. Even the thing with… With.." Jeriah's holding you against Hale again and you swallow through it and blink away tears. Cheri grabs your hand and you can breathe again. You don't have to say it, she knows. "And I'm still here. I just. Don't know why I'm still here."

Cheri's quiet. She's not looking at you, giving you respect enough to not stare at you. Her thumb is rubbing the back of your hand, keeping you stable and grounded. You won't cry. You've done enough of that shit.

"I don't have an answer for you. I'm sorry. I've not heard nothin' about any of it. I dunno if it's 'cause were close or what. But I'd like to think someone woulda told me if we'd done anything to your team."

That's fair. The two of you are close. They could be keeping their distance from her about it. Because she could tell you or like you enough to try to stop them? There's lots of possibilities. But you know he still has everything. You should tell her the worst part.

"Cheri. The other week. When it went down… I'm going to tell you something that I never want repeated. To anyone. I know, Hauntly knows, and you'll know, yea?"

"Of course. Anything ya need."

"Jeriah was… talking about Guzma and um, trying to reason with why Team Skull has been tamer. Since I've been here. And it's stupid and I know it's not true but it's just there, you know? Over and over and-"

"Moon, you ain't gotta tell me anythin' that's gonna make you uncomfortable. I wanna help, but not if sayin' it's gonna hurt you."

"No. I think it's better if it's out." You pause, breathe deep, and let go. "He said 'You never know what all a man will do to get a woman until he finds one he really wants his dick in.'" You do feel it, like a little weight is lifted. It's still there but it's also out.

"That absolute piece of fucking garbage." Cheri swears and grabs up your hand in hers. "Don't you fuckin' listen to that shit. Boss is a lot of things, but he ain't a monster like that. I won't defend him, I know you don't like it when we do, but he'd never do something that shady." You don't say anything. How can you tell her you don't know. It's not that you don't trust her, you trust her more than any other person in this town, but it's hard to know what to believe anymore. "Imma ask."

You lift your head to look at her incredulously. "You what."

"Imma ask him." 

"Oh Cheri no, that's not-"

"No, listen. Listen to me. Imma go and imma ask him if he still has it. And imma ask him what the fuck he thinks he's doin' keepin' 'em still. I ain't gonna mention his like _intentions_ towards you or nothin'. Unless it leads to that or somethin' but that won't be what I'm after. Imma get your shit back or maybe talk some sense into him? I don't fuckin' know." She's worked up, as much if not more than you were earlier. Certainly enough that she's wanting to confront the boss she's been scared of this whole time. For you. 

You can't be mad at her. And you know she's going to do it no matter what you say. She's not someone who backs down. "Yea. Okay." You concede. It's not like you can stop her.

She nods and smiles, leaning forward to butt her forehead against yours. "You're like, my best friend, yo. And I'm done standin' back and lettin' shit get you. I got you, okay?" You laugh.

"Oh no, Cheri…. You've turned into the sappy gay." She snaps her head back from yours and groans.

"Well fucking dammit, Moon!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So next chapter might take a bit to get out. Writings been kinda hard lately because for as much as I mention it in comments that my household is like super careful, we got covid anyway! Both me and my roommate. Somehow my girlfriend doesn't? Which is a miracle. 
> 
> The next chapter is also one that I'm having to work on from scratch. So there's that. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! I love comments but kudos work just as well!
> 
> Also! The playlist!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6egIBAq5P0492MibG9PiD7?si=2OuRbiWpQPiFolE7SXbK4w


	11. I'm Not Done

"So, I lost my head a while ago  
But you seem to have done no better  
We set fire in the snow  
It ain't over, I'm not done"

 _I'm Not Done_ by Fever Ray

She's had a pretty good life, right?

Cheri squats at the end of the hall, staring at the door to the Boss's room. It's way too late. Got to be pushing morning but she can't sleep. And it's not 'cause of the growing squall outside. 

What Moon said still sits echoing back and forth in her head. 

The window that's busted out is covered, a similar shaped board and a few tarps to keep out the wind and rain that's coming, and a matching bunch for the missing door on the other side of the hall. It's not the first storm she's been in the mansion for. Probably her eleventh or maybe thirteenth? They get kinda muddled the way that they party during them. A good party ruckus keeps the storm anxieties out. So it's not the lightning that's causing all these nerves in her tummy. Nah. But she told Moon that she'd talk to the Boss. 

That's why she sits at the end of the hall, contemplating how good life has been the three years she's been here. She'd showed up fresh off the boat from Akala at twenty-two and snagged someone's ride pager to get a charizard up. She'd heard about them in passing, some new group showing up and causing shit. They'd take in anyone, any reject who appeared at their door. They'd been excited when she'd shown up, Team Skull was much smaller then, maybe twenty of them, and Lea had been the first girl she'd met at the entrance to Po Town. She was kind enough, in the way Cheri has come to expect of other members, gruff and sarcastic but still ready to stick up for you. She'd marched her right in. Showed her the houses, the Pokemon center that still worked sometimes back in the day, and then the mansion. 

Even back then it was a wreck, nothing compared to now but the windows were already busted out and the chandelier was halfway to the floor, they eventually dropped it themselves more for safety than aesthetic. The graffiti was already up or at least the first layer of it. They actually paint the walls every once in a while so they can have a blank canvas, but back then it was sparse and new and she could still smell the aerosol in the air. It was weird how at home she felt just being there. Knowing that these people were also runaways and misfits and the leftovers from wherever they came from. And they got to live in a huge mansion, doin' whatever they wanted. It was thrilling.

She met Sis before she'd even seen Boss. Plumeria always had that quiet, in-charge vibe. She didn't talk a lot at first, just to the ones who'd been there since day one, but she helped Cheri out. Showed her how to work the shower because the heat knob was a pain, got her set up with newer sheets and an old comforter they'd snatched from somewhere. She took care of all of them, kept them all in line but was the first to answer when any of them were given shit. She's opened up over the years.

Sis dyed her hair that first time. Cheri had wanted to but never had a chance. She'd grown up poor in that trailer, hand-me-down clothes from neighbors, dad spending all their money on alcohol or gambling. She got pink. The girls all had pink hair in the beginning. And the boys blue. They could buy it in bulk for cheap. Only the oldest of them remember that and fewer of them kept it. She's disgusted to know Jeriah was one of them.

The first time she'd met the Boss was the next day, after she'd already gotten to sleep in the mansion, in the same bed she has now. It's a distinct difference between now and then. He was angrier, more aggressive, like the wounds were still fresh from whatever shit he'd been through. But he was nice too, glad he had another grunt around, his new family was expanding. He'd given her a uniform, said that she'd have to pay for it over time, told her in short how they ran things. And that was the last time she'd been in his room. Where Sis has opened up, Boss has slowly shut people out. It ain't hard to tell that the more of them that showed up, the less he knew how to handle them.

Since then, everything's been pretty smooth sailing. She's never talked to her dad again, even though she bought herself a phone. She asked sis if she could run any island except Akala and was surprised when there were a lot of them who didn't want to go back to their original home island. No one ever made her go. She shops at KoniKoni sometimes, but never any other city on the island.

She was generally in charge of the group who set up camp on Melemele. Funny that she knows the house Moon lives in now. It was empty for a while and they'd broken in to sleep there on more than one occasion. Until it started getting fixed up. Cheri, the twins Hana and Mia, and sometimes Ian would go out there and catch the ratata and meowth on route one. They'd stock up on great balls or quick balls and just go to town. They sold well, the regional variants. She'd seen the other type of ratata before and can't imagine Ratbaby lookin' different than she does now.

Her group gets good money coming in just from them alone. Sometimes they'll catch other stuff and a few times they've even had special orders from people just wanting Alola specific pokemon. Those are all easy. They keep their heads down and production up and they get by. She's never been in trouble with Boss or even had to talk to him beyond him throwing a "good job" or "great catch" her way when they bring home almost more than they can carry.

But nobody just _talks_ to the Boss. Sis, yea sure, they chat with her all the time. She's super chill or whatever. But Cheri's never seen someone just go to Mr. Guzma's room of their own volition and come out alright. Not that he really beats 'em, mostly just tears in to them with words. That's only happened on a few occasions to idiots who probably deserved it, asking the Boss stupid shit. They usually just get a good yellin' at and run out of there as fast as they can. Everyone knows when someone's on his shitlist, too. They get sent to cause trouble and hang out up on Poni Island. Ain't nothin' goes on up there. 

Cheri would almost rather be there now than do what she said she would. But no. She don't back down and she doesn't go back on her word. Eventually she's gonna have to get her shit together and knock on that door. It's just… a little harder than what she thought when she was mad earlier. Anger always makes things easier, right? Makes ya seem invincible and like nobody can stop ya. 

Least that's what they see in Guzma. That's what they've been taught as grunts under Sis and Boss. Makes sense why her brothers and sisters run the hell off when they've been beat. That fight gets knocked right out of you and when that's gone, instinct says flight's the next option. Better than the last option and freezing up anyway.

Her hand reaches for her bandana, to pull on it like she does when she's thinking or she gets anxious or hell, both right now. But she'd left her hat and bandana back in the bedroom. She coughs out a bitter laugh and stands, stretching her legs a bit. 

Everyone's asleep. She's the only one she's seen in almost an hour. Boss ain't though. He never really sleeps and, from what she gathered from Moon, Boss probably has a lot goin' on in his head too. It made Moon feel better earlier, getting it off her chest. Heck, as soon as Hauntly woke up to keep an eye on her, she passed right out. Maybe it'll help Boss out too. If Sis is gone, he doesn't have anyone to bitch at. She's pretty sure he even keeps shit from Sis.

Okay. If it'll help Moon and Boss, then it's worth a try, right?

Her legs are like jelly, shaking even as she strides across the hall to Boss's door with her barely inflated confidence, and her fist sounds so loud when she knocks against it that it makes her wince.

She hears shuffling around, a groan like he probably was half asleep and ya know maybe this was a mistake but, fuck, she's already here.

"Yea? Come in." Too late now. She turns the knob and steps in, staring at the floor rather than Guzma. She's never really looked him in the face before, has she? Boss's room is always a mess, no more than the rest of the house, still similar to what she remembers other than the box of buginium is fuller. It's dark, the overhead's out and Boss's laptop the only light she can see. She watches him gesture vaguely in her direction. "Turn the light on, will ya?"

Cheri flicks it on. She looks at him while he shields his eyes from the light, and wipes at his face. She keeps herself from wringing her hands, doesn't want to act nervous or weak in front of him. She's gonna look him in the eye, shouldn't be hard right? Moon does it all the time. And she does when he finally blinks at her, confused and missing his glasses and gold chain, watch on the end table, and yea he was definitely kinda asleep, but he doesn't look as threatening as she was expecting. 

"Cheri, right? Something wrong with Moon?" She hears the edge of panic in his question, sees it in his tired eyes and posture, and she remembers what he looked like when the three of them found her downstairs and crying. He looked devastated when he'd burst in. She woulda said earlier that she didn't think boss had them kind of feelings or that what Moon had mentioned didn't have a standing in the situation with her shit. But wow. If she wasn't right about that too. She's confused to find she's barely surprised.

A laugh bubbles up before she can stop herself and Guzma grows more concerned and then angry. "Uh, hey. What the fuck is so funny?" He's defensive and her laughter isn't even fucking about him. She should be afraid of him and she is! Her legs are still shaking and if it weren't for the uncontrollable laughter, she's sure she'd be fucking wilting under his gaze. Instead she feels like she's gonna throw up for a whole different reason. It's not even really funny! At least, it shouldn't be.

She tries to control it and can finally breathe a bit, her noise dying down and she has to squat again before she fucking falls from her legs trembling. "Isn't it so messed up how _right_ she is all the time?"

"'xcuse me?" She wipes the tears out of her eyes and looks at him again. He's leaned forward like he might jump right out of his chair, might come at her, but there's a red flush creeping up his cheeks that just makes her chuckle harder.

"Moon. Every word of her mouth is right all the damn time. About you, about us! It's so fucking stupid." Eventually it stops and she can control herself again, glancing up at the Boss as he sits forward in his throne. She really is scared of him and that probably won't change easily. But other than other people's reasons, she's had no need to fear him before. She just went along with the group.

"The hell dya want?" He asks, clearly offended but holding it together.

Cheri breathes and stands back up, huffing before letting it just tumble out. "Boss, I'm here for Moon's shit. She'd like it back now." She catches him off guard, his mouth falling open and brows pushing up before falling back down in suspicion. 

"Really? What makes ya think imma give it up?"

"Oh come on," she scoffs. "Game's over. It's done. She heard you and Sis earlier. She knows you got 'em. How much longer you think she's gonna be okay here? How much more shit you gonna make her go through?"

"What d'you care? You really standin' up to me for her? She thinkin' I'll be nicer to you or somethin'?"

"No. She didn't want me here. She knows I'm fucking terrified of you. We're all terrified of you. I'm here cause I wanna be. She's my _friend_. I'm done standin' around and watchin' her get beat down and down and stand back up. She's had to be stronger than us from day one. Just give her stuff back. Shit ain't hard, Boss." Guzma's quiet. Cheri doesn't like it, images of her own dad's silent rage making her chest tight but Boss ain't him. And she's grown since she was that scared kid in her dad's shit trailer, she won't be afraid just cause she was always told to. 

Boss doesn't look at her, staring over at his closet in thought with his face tight, head tilted in his hand. She stands up straight and keeps her fists at her side. She won't back down from him anymore.

"I can't give 'em to you," he says, running a hand through his hair. She barely hears it but it feels like a punch to the chest, that anger flaring up strong when she registers what he said.

"And why not? You think I won't fight you for 'em?" She'll lose, she knows she'll lose. But she'll do it if that's what it takes for him to take her seriously. 

"Ha. You would, huh? Ya care about her that much."

"Yea. I do."

He doesn't say a word. Just sits with his eyes closed and a hand gripping the arms of his chair. He looks too calm, like nothin' she's seen on him before and that's worse than the yelling. She reaches for Ratbaby, ready for him if that's what it'll really take.

"I can't give 'em to _you_ , ya get it?" To her? So he does have plans for 'em.

"Don't you dare sell them. Don't you fuckin' do that to her."

"Fuck, I ain't gonna fucking sell 'em. I gotta give them to her myself, okay?" He slumps down in his chair following a loud, exasperated sigh. "Plums just won't shut up and now here you are. Look, I'm tryin', yea? She won't talk to me! What am I supposed to do? Make her? She'd love that. 'm sure that'd go real great!" He throws his hands up and slaps them against the chair arms. Sure he's trying, she thinks sarcastically. Like he ain't been avoidin' her as much as she's avoidin' him.

"Yer doin' a lousy job tryin', Boss."

"Thanks, just what I needed to hear." He rolls his eyes at her. She stops. Okay. Different approach.

"Listen. She knows I came to talk to ya. And she knows what it's about. So just, try again." He grunts and slouches back, shoving his hand through his hair again and then crossing his arms. She's seen him do that before, pull his hair when he doesn't know how else to react. The longer this goes on, the more she's convinced he's just a fuckin' child. "Fine. Act like that. I'm sure that'll fly with her, too."

"What do you know?"

"I know fuckin' enough. More about her than you do. How about this, you like deals, I'll make _you_ a deal? You have until the storm ends to do this shit. And if not, you give Moon's shit to either Sis or me. And I can tell ya which one of us would be the nicest about it."

"That's-"

"No," she says, stern and done playing games. His eyes narrow but she doesn't stop. "That's the deal. You gotta fix yer own problems, Boss. I know what Moon and her talk about. Stop lettin' Sis clean up _your_ messes." She can't believe she's got him speechless, can't believe he's even listening to her. He's kinda actually a push over, huh.

He's quiet for a long minute, starin' her down and she doesn't look away. She hold that eye contact until she can feel her legs wobble again, until he finally gives in. "Fine. Just fine." He looks at his laptop, doesn't even glance at her and she knows she's won. She nods anyway.

Cheri turns to grab the door knob, turning it just to crack it open. "She's had worse stuff than us in her life, Boss. She's made it through shit just like the rest of us have and she's still stronger than everyone here. If you ain't gonna do something, just let her go." She slips out before he can reply. She ignores the sound of bottles breaking from the otherside of the floor as she enters their room.

She's lived with Moon for four months and she's closer to her than she's been to anyone in her life. She's pretty certain that if she and Boss didn't have such big hate boners for each other, she might make a move. She really thinks she loves her. But that love means she isn't gonna let him cause her anymore hurt. Moon deserves the world and makes Cheri even feel like she deserves somethin' better than here.

Cheri lays in bed after the sun comes up, staring at Moon's back in the other bed. Hauntly is somewhere in the room, she can feel him now like Moon always could, making sure Moon sleeps soundly through the wind kicking up outside. But all she can think is that Guzma'd better keep his word. Because if she has to clean up after him, it'll be a helluva lot worse than anything Sis would ever do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did y'all want a chapter from Cheri's pov? Cause we got it. I was originally going to do it from Guzma's but it didn't feel right? I would still love to do one from his during this chapter and the next and last. But it might just be a stand alone fic from the three chaps. 
> 
> This is also going to be a double post. It was two chapters combined but it flowed weird from Cheri back to Moon but the chapter after this is short. So it's two for one.
> 
> I've also drawn Cheri, Marshal, and the Jeriah gang. I'll post links to those at some point.


	12. Chapter 12

"I want you, thin fingers  
I wanted you, thin fingernails  
And when you bend backwards  
I wanted you, I needed you, ohh  
To make me better"

 _Make You Better_ by The Decemberists

The next week passes, the rain is heavier, thunder and lightning sounding against the house at all hours. And then it continues on into the next day and the next, more thunder and more rain, until the sound of it beating against the roof is indistinguishable from how quiet it used to be. They tell you that this is pretty much the typhoon weather that the walls were built for. None of you go out in it. 

You find that the house being completely full of people is a little overwhelming, especially with your still recovering emotional state. Ridiculously more so now that you have to slowly introduce Hauntly to team members who were out on other islands. It’s unfortunate, but you end up having to put him in his pokeball a lot because he likes to harass the kids, using this weather to really up the ante his pranks. But you still sneak him out for shits and giggles sometimes. 

During these days, the game room is an absolute bloodbath for who wants the tvs and video games. You decide that it is both _way_ too full and completely not worth it, instead choosing the board games or cards or whatever else they decide to do to entertain themselves downstairs. Sometimes people even pull out an old projector and use one of the laptops to stream movies onto the sheet they've put on the wall.

They make a ton of food, people awake pretty much at all hours so they just keep the food coming, bringing it out into the foyer where everyone is shouting and drinking and bundled up in blankets and comforters. Despite the previous couple of weeks, this is probably the best time that you’ve had while you’ve been stuck here.

It is during one of these days that they’ve managed to drag Guzma from his room and you are most certainly kicking his ass at cards. It's surprisingly nice. He's been out a few times, odd without Plumeria here, but each time he's tried to hang out with the kids. Not that they really know what to do about it. Guzma doesn't just _hang out_ with them. It's good to see them with him. He makes them laugh, gave them tips during the incredibly embarrassing rap battle they made you sit through last night, even picks Marshall up to pin the sheet higher so more of them can see the movie. Marshall doesn't say a word the rest of the night, falling asleep next to Guzma in the middle of the movie. 

Guzma also doesn't know how to react to any of it. Not just the Marshall thing, which was awkwardly cute you'll admit, but all the attention. You catch pretty quick that for all he kicks up a ruckus in his team, he doesn't like it when they're yelling. You think it makes him anxious. He closes up when there's too much going on, when too many voices are overlapping. 

You end up watching him a lot and catch little things you hadn't noticed before. He'll stare right at whoever is making the most noise but he'll look distant like he's not really hearing them but something else instead or sometimes he'll seem too alert, too on edge. But when everyone's calmed down, you see that he talks through the movies, pointing out random things to whoever is sitting closest to him. Or that he leans forward when something intense is happening on screen. One night they let you choose a horror movie and you glance over to see him sitting so tense and still, a pillow he's snatched from someone in his lap that he's holding onto for dear life. It's cute and laughable and you decide to tease him about it until you remember that means speaking with him.

You're torn. Cheri told you that she'd talked to him. She won't tell you what was said, won't tell you a thing about him. But it had to get through. He's never given the team so much direct attention. But every interaction he's had with you has been positive too. Even if you dread It. It tears you up, feeling hope in your chest but sick to your stomach. How are you supposed to ignore your feelings for him if you're trapped in the house like this? If he was in his room like he was supposed to be, it would be fine. But you didn't plan on this much contact. 

And now somehow, they've corralled you into playing with him. Well it was more than just the two of you, but between you, you've beat the rest out of the previous rounds. Most of the kids are behind you, Cheri bundled up next to you as you and Guzma continue your game, watching as you discard two cards. Ian, who is dealing, hands you two for your discard and you turn them one at a time into your hand. You raise your eyebrows and look at Guzma expectantly. 

He does the same, one eyebrow raising to disappear behind his glasses and his tongue sticking out from his teeth before frowning in frustration. He sets down two cards himself and Ian passes him two as well. Guzma flips one, nods a little, and then flips the other. “Oh come on!” He shouts, throwing his losing hand onto the foyer floor. “This game fucking sucks, yo. It’s rigged.”

“Oh Guzma, don’t be such a bad sport.” You lightly sit your hand down. “Tell you what, next time you can choose the game. But as for now, two of those boxes of burritos have my name on them.” He groans and runs his hands through his hair, scratching harshly at his scalp. The team is already getting loud, news of Guzma's loss making its way through them. “Man, you really are such a baby at losing.”

“Hey, I ain’t a baby. Ain’t nobody likes losin’.” You snort.

“Winner of the next round gets to play Moon!” One of the kids shout which in turn starts up a whole riot of shouting. Cheri helps you stand up and you scoot out of the way so that they can start their competition. Just a swarm of children and teens and young adults playing games like this is some sort of giant fucked up slumber party. As if all of you aren't trapped in this mansion for the next few days. As much as you're comfortable like this, you're starting to feel trapped and claustrophobic.

“Yo, can I talk to you for a minute?” Guzma taps at your arm and you turn to face him. He has that odd look on his face again that you can’t quite place, but you nod, grab your crutch, and follow him up the stairs. This is it. You try not to feel nervous, try not to be excited that he could actually let you leave with everything when the rain clears. Just in case. Just in case it isn't real. If it's a trick.

He starts to head towards the walkway outside but pauses, distracted and forgetting the boards they have up, and instead makes the path through his box wall wider so that you can get through. You’ve not been on this side of the house since the night that he had Plumeria, Cheri, and you in there while he tore the town apart, since that night. But shit has changed. You’ve been able to talk to Guzma a lot easier, especially since he’d given you Hauntly back. 

Hauntly doesn’t quite... _like_ him at all, causing a lot of problems if you don’t keep an eye on him. But Guzma's been asking you pretty often how you’re feeling, whether your ankle is getting better, even going as far as helping you up and down the stairs if he’s going the same direction. He’s still the same snarky asshole, but it’s like he’s just become a lot more caring. Or at least more vocal about it. It's hard to tell when he stays so emotionally far away from everyone.

He opens the door and then closes it behind the two of you after you slowly trundle your way in. Guzma's room is just as messy as you remember, some of the bottles have been cleared away, probably at Plumeria’s insistence, but otherwise still a complete and total wreck other than the shelf behind his bed which has since been decorated. There's even a web starting up in the corner, probably from his ariados. Cute. 

He flops onto his bed and instead of sitting beside him, you walk on up and take a seat in his ‘throne’. It’s fine, you guess. Worn down from his weight, but in that comfortable way that old furniture gets over time.

“I can see why you sit in this thing. Makes me feel special already.” He snorts when you grin at him, his expression becoming more serious after a moment. 

“I’ve been thinking about what you said the other week. About leaving. ‘Bout taking the kids with you.”

“Oh. I see.” This isn't what you expected, isn't what you had hoped it'd be about. Your smile falters. This conversation isn't what you wanted. But you stay quiet.

“Look, I’m gonna start of sayin’ that I _really_ hate losin’. Yer right! I’m a fuckin’ sore loser. Because it makes me feel like I ain’t good enough. And when you went and said watcha did, it made me feel that way. But it also got me thinkin’ ‘bout other shit too. Like me callin’ ‘em all family. It’s cause that’s what we gotta be. We gotta stick together, ain’t nobody else gonna give a shit about it. But I didn’ take the time to learn ‘em because I don’t wanna get attached and then lose ‘em. It just rolls back to me feelin’ like I’m not good enough, ya know?”

“Guzma-” He waves his hand at you.

“I ain’t finished. It took me some hard thinkin’. But if ya really think you can give ‘em a better life, do it. Cause yer right about them deservin’ it. They should have so much more than an abandoned fucking town in the middle of fucking nowhere.” He’s quiet for a minute, eyes closed and breathing deeply. “Yea. So. That’s where I’m at.”

“But so do you. So does everybody. You didn’t ask for your parents or how they treated you. You deserve better too.”

“Nah. You were right. I fucked up. And now these kids are gonna have to drag themselves out of this shithole that I’ve dug for all of us.”

“Hey, no.” You push yourself off the chair and shuffle towards him, sitting gently on the bed. Maybe this isn't the talk you wanted, but if he's willing to open up, you're not going to push him away. Not now, not with how you feel. “I know what it’s like to be labeled and then have to correct it.”

“Good little princess like you? Nah, yer just sayin’ that. Make me feel better about the kids.” You shake your head at him.

“I wish. No. Viridian had _real_ bad people, Guzma. Not the kind of bad that people say you all are. You all aren’t anything compared to them. They actually hurt and killed and experimented on pokemon. And people. That’s where Team Rocket started. Their boss was the gym leader of Viridian. And when all of that went down, the whole town ended up labeled. As conspirators and members and all kinds of horrible shit. And then," you take a deep breath and sigh, staring and picking at the wrap on your hand. "There was my dad. He worked in Saffron in a science facility that ended up being controlled by Rocket. The scientists weren’t even aware that they were working under them. So when all the shit hit the fan, Dad was seen as a member of them, too. Even at home where people knew him. Where he'd lived his whole life.” You huff and wring your hands together.

“Holy fuck.”

“Oh it… it gets worse. One day Dad got sick. A lot of the scientists did. Some kind of exposure to whatever they were working on. He died without being able to clear his name. And then we were labeled too. Having to prove to people that you grew up with that you don’t steal and kill pokemon is horrible. And then losing someone on top of that. It nearly killed us.”

“Fucking shit, Moon. Is that why ya moved?” You stare across at the closet, not looking at him but knowing exactly what expression is on his face. You've seen it far too many times.

“It’s part of it. It ends up pretty depressing having to look at buildings and places that caused your dad to die. And it’s total shit dealing with the people.” He’s quiet for a minute while you reminisce about your home back in Kanto. You do miss it sometimes, but in your dreams it’s the Viridian before everything went to shit. When you were a kid, when you had Dad's growlithe and Hauntly was a gastly. When things were easy.

“....was he a good dad?”

“He was a great dad.” Tears are coming to your eyes and you look up and blink them away. You shake your head and look at him. “Look, you all are going to be fine. We’re going to go out there and we’re going to show them that you all are more than horrible little shits wrecking havoc all over the place. We’re going to get them on track and we’re going to help them. Both of us.” He smiles, something genuine that you’re not sure you’ve seen from him. It makes him look younger, or at least more his age you think, makes the bags under his eyes less noticeable. “I really think it would help them to see you get yourself help too.” He nods, looking away and at his hands. Before you can stop yourself, you reach for one, wrapping your fingers with his. His hand nearly engulfs yours when it closes. You bump your shoulder into his and laugh. “Maybe we just deal with shit the same way. Try to help people our way and then don’t want to be wrong.”

“I ain’t seen you be wrong once since you’ve been here.”

“Yea, right. Thanks, I guess.” You turn to look him in the face, but you’re shocked at the tenderness in his eyes. He reaches up to hold your cheek in his free hand. You can feel your face heating up beneath it. You start to question yourself, question the situation, but before you can process what is really going on, or if it’s even real for that matter, he’s closed the gap between you. His mouth easily covers yours, lips slightly chapped and his hair on his chin scratches gently against your skin, all sensations that make your heart thud louder in your chest. You sigh into the kiss, closing your eyes and leaning into his hand as you let him press himself deeper. 

You don't really know how long this has been building. Have you always hated him? Or have you just butted heads with him out of instinct. You remember sitting with him by the pool, his golisopod between you. You were so angry, and you had every right to be, but you had found it so easy to talk to him then. You can’t think of a time when you really had a hard time talking to him. 

Something wet runs the crease of your lips and you open them, his tongue tangling with yours and building something deep within your chest. And then his hand moves, running from your cheek to feel through your hair and settling at the nape of your neck. Like electricity, the memory of Jeriah holding the back of your neck streaks through your brain, his face behind your eyes. You panic.

You yank your hand out of his and shove against his shoulder, breaking the kiss with eyes wide. You stare at his chest, unable to look him in the face as you try to calm your breathing down. “Ah shit. Fuck, I didn’t mean to… shit,” he stumbles over his words as he realizes what’s going on. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t, I can’t.” Your hands are shaking as you cover your face, leaning over your legs and trying to hold back tears and the compulsion to start hyperventilating, anxiety beating around in your chest and head and stomach. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna do anythin’ you don’t want. I’m sorry.” He slowly reaches one hand across your shoulders, testing to make sure that the action is okay before he pulls you to him. He places his other hand in front of you and you immediately grab it to ground yourself, to breathe, letting him move to hold you. He cradles you, like he held you before, and you end up pushing yourself into his chest, allowing him to envelope you in his arms.

Calming down takes a long time, trying to consciously control your breathing, deep in and deep out, counting the seconds in your head. It's exhausting and by the time your body finally realizes that you're fine, you're almost too comfortable in his arms like this. It feels just as foreign as it does familiar, like you've always been like this and just forgotten how.

He just lays his head on top of yours, doesn't say a word and let's you work through it. You did want this, you decide. You’ve wanted to be held like this since the first time he did it, regardless of the situation. You actually feel safe like this. You wonder if he was the one who carried you when you fell off the house. What if you'd stayed in his room after Jeriah instead of with Plumeria and Cheri? How safe would you have felt in his arms this whole time? 

“Is it fine if I stay here tonight?” You ask, hardly above a whisper. You don't think about what you said. You don't think about what it _means_. He nods, kissing at the top of your head and moving away to scoot up into the bed, pulling you along with him. He holds you tightly against him, your head against his chest and your arms secured tightly between you and him. You don't mean to but his heartbeat lulls you to sleep before you can stop as his hand runs through your hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost positive at this point that its gonna be closer to 22 or so chapters. 18 isn't cutting it.
> 
> It's possible that I'll change the song maybe. It's the emotion I want but not right somehow. 
> 
> But tada! A heads up, next chapter they gonna fuck. Might not be everyone's jam but this is a rated E fic so?
> 
> I like kudos but I really love comments! They keep me goin' sometimes. 
> 
> Have fun!


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